


Sands of Time

by rons_pigwidgeon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Murder Mystery, Semi-Public Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/rons_pigwidgeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is on the hunt for a serial killer, who is bent on making his mark by murdering famous wizards and witches in Time. While testing a special Time-Turner that can move both forwards and backwards in Time, Harry and Severus have an accident and find themselves in the middle of the underground facilities of Torchwood. They soon find out that these strange Muggles can help them track their killer and solve the crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for Team Snitch during the 2009 [Snarry_Games](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snarry_games/).  
>  **Original Notes:** First, a HUGE **THANK YOU** to my beta and teammate, amand_r. Also to mon Capiton, joanwilder, for her excellent assistance throughout, and especially in my final read-through. Lastly, I’d like to thank the rest of my team for your excellent feedback. You were all wonderful and I had a blast working with you! Without all of your help, this story would have looked like a royal mess.
> 
> Also, this story was finished before Torchwood: Children of Earth aired in the US, so there are absolutely NO spoilers for the third series at all. No worries for those who have yet to see it to be spoiled the way I was, promise!

Harry hated Ministry meetings. They were ever-lasting and exceedingly tedious. The last to have been even half-way interesting, Auror Billingsley had got into a fist-fight with Minister Lancaster over cutting the Auror budget by 3%. But that had been three years ago, and they were now down 26%. Billingsley may have won the fist-fight, but he lost the budget battle most decidedly. Harry scribbled a caricature of the fight on the side of his notes as a distraction and fought back an impatient sigh. What he wanted to be doing was getting out there and capturing his perp, not sitting around arguing about what to tell the press about the latest murder victim. 

There was no easy way to explain to the media and the Wizarding public at large that the body found in front of Hogsmeade Station was actually Celestina Warbeck—or at least her future self, as Harry had spoken to her an hour ago and she had been shaken, but most certainly alive—and not someone Polyjuiced as her.

“Potter, do you think you could possibly pay attention? This concerns you.” The frustration in Malfoy’s voice made Harry look up, only to note that the entire group was staring at him.

_Fuck me_. “Sorry, what?”

“I think we need a consultant to assist in our understanding of the murderer. As you might remember, had you bothered to pay attention,” Draco shot him a glare before continuing, “certain evidence has led us to believe that our suspect is a former Death Eater. I would like Severus Snape to be brought in, but as he is not exactly on speaking terms with me…” Harry snorted. Not on speaking terms, indeed. They had nearly come to blows at the last Ministry function, over what Harry wasn’t entirely sure. “I thought you might have better luck with him.”

Harry tried not to blanch, really he did, but with an idea like that he could little help himself. “Why can’t you be our consultant? The Death Eaters stayed in your house for a year.”

“And I am afraid I did not have the fortitude at seventeen to do more than hide in my room. Severus knows them well. He will be able to give us an insight no one else would.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to convince him? He’s hated me for much longer than he has you.”

Draco glanced to the Auror next to him and smirked. “I think you’ll do fine.”

*

Fine indeed. It took Harry two days to track Snape down, most of which was his own fault for rarely traveling further down Diagon Alley than the bank. How was he to know Snape had a shop set up three blocks further south that had been open since the end of the war? The shop itself was small and unimposing, tucked away between two larger shops. Widdershins was pretty much what Harry expected it to be, a cramped shop of shelves lined with potions and a sparse counter. The young man sitting behind it looked both incredibly unhappy and incredibly bored. His attention was focused on a potions magazine, except for the occasional nervous glance he threw Harry, the only customer in the shop. Harry took his time perusing the shelves, curious to see what sorts of potions Snape stocked, making sure none of them sounded dark. He had always been suspicious of Snape, and old habits were hard to break.

After a while, he went up to the counter and smiled at the young man. “Hello, sorry to bother you, but the Professor wouldn’t happen to be in today, would he?”

“Mr. Snape is indisposed at the moment.”

“Too indisposed to speak with an Auror about official business?” He raised an eyebrow. The young man’s face turned to panic.

“Mr. Potter, sir, there isn’t anything illegal going on here. We just sell potions, all of the legal sort. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but it’s all lies and vicious rumors. People say lots of things that aren’t true about this shop, and you shouldn’t listen to everything you hear.”

Harry chuckled to himself and shook his head, laying a hand on the table. “Relax, it’s nothing of that sort. I just need his help with a case. Would you please go and tell him I’d like to speak to him?” 

“Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.” The young man slipped through a curtain behind the counter and there was the murmur of voices, one of which Harry recognized as his former professor. There was a small crash and a curse, and then the boy came back and directed Harry to go behind the curtain. Harry did so, reluctantly, nervous to be alone with Snape after nearly ten years of only seeing one another from a distance. 

He stepped into a room that looked much like Snape’s private potions room at Hogwarts, if a bit smaller. There were jars full of ingredients and cauldrons of various sizes and compositions lining the shelves, and two work benches were set up in the middle of the room; one held three bubbling cauldrons while the other held ingredients in various stages of being chopped, minced, crushed, and otherwise mangled. And in the middle stood his former professor, hair longer than it had been and tied back with a black ribbon. He wore his normal work robes, but there was something… different about him. An indefinable something, but Harry liked it. He smiled and went to shake Snape’s hand, momentarily forgetting that Snape was meant to hate him.

“To what do I owe this dubious honor, Potter? My assistant claims that you need my help.”

“I do, indeed, sir. How have you been? You look like you’re doing much better than you did back at Hogwarts, I must say.” That earned him a glare.

“Are you trying to tell me that I looked in poor health while you were attending school?”

Fuck, he’d already managed to insult him. This was never going to work. “No, sir, only that you always looked tired and unhappy back then, what with all the stress of spying and dealing with children, and all. You look better rested now, lighter somehow. Good, very good.” He smiled unsurely, hoping not to look like too much of an idiot. By the look on Snape’s face, he failed.

“I will take that as a compliment, I suppose, though you should know that compliments will not get you what you want. Get to the point and tell me why you are here.”

“Right, sorry, I’ll get to it, shall I? I don’t know if you’ve seen in the papers or not, but we seem to have a rather nasty serial killer on our hands, and we think he might be one of Voldemort’s. We would like you to come on temporarily as a consultant, to help us understand how this man works and possibly who he is. What do you reckon?”

There was a pause as Snape thought the proposition over. He leant a hip against one of the tables and crossed his arms over his chest. “When you say ‘we’, do you mean Draco? Because I will tell you right now that I will not tolerate working with him.”

“Oh no, you’ll be working with me. Not that that’s any consolation, I guess, but still. Malfoy doesn’t work on cases anymore. He’s too busy telling everyone else what to do.”

“Yes, that does sound right. Just you, then? No partner?”

“Not at the moment. My old partner just left the department and the Academy won’t have any new graduates until December. Is that all right?”

“Whether or not it is ‘all right’ is yet to be seen, but I suppose I might be able to assist you, if it is really necessary. What makes you suspect this man is a former associate of mine?”

“He’s been killing Muggle-borns off, famous ones from all over history, and then dumping the bodies in quite obvious places. We just found Celestina Warbeck’s body outside Hogsmeade Station. Thankfully school isn’t in session, but the poor bloke who found her had to spend the night in hospital for shock.”

“Someone has murdered Celestina Warbeck? Good for him; I always thought her an appalling singer.”

Harry hid a smile behind his hand and coughed politely. “She isn’t actually dead yet. I’ve spoken to her since and she’s quite alive. The body was at least ten years older than she is now, if not more.”

“So the Wizarding world is to be subjected to her terrible interpretation of music for another ten years, then? What a pity. I still fail to see why you suspect a Death Eater.”

“Why don’t you come down to the Ministry and take a look at the case files and see what you think? Like I said, we aren’t sure who we’re dealing with here. That’s why we need you. You’ll be compensated well for your time, of course.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “And who exactly decides what constitutes ‘compensated well’? The Ministry is not exactly known for fair pay of its consultants.”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen; you have my word.”

Snape studied him for a long moment, too long in Harry’s opinion. He felt like an insect under glass being scrutinized in order to determine the best way to be dissected. Or at least he would have felt that way had it not been for a certain flash of the dark eyes, something indescribable that Harry could have sworn was heat. He made sure to breathe normally and not twitch so as not to give away the sudden nervous tension running through his body. 

“All right, I will assist you. Let me have a word with my assistant, and we may leave.” He straightened from his position against the table and brushed past Harry and then through the curtain. A brief conversation later and Snape had handed the shop over to the unhappy young man at the counter for the day.

A quick Apparition and a short walk found them in a conference room down the hall from Harry’s office, poring over the case files. Photos of all the crime scenes were spread out and each scrutinized thoroughly by Snape. Goerge Noel Byron, Lord Byron had been the first, left at the gates of Newstead Abbey in Nottinghamshire. He had been hit with an Entrail-Expelling Curse and left for dead, only to be found by a traumatized house-elf three days later. It took a week for the Aurors to determine that it was indeed him, snatched from the battlefields of Greece. The next victim was Lucrezia Borgia, brutally raped before _Sectumsempra_ had been cast on her genitals. She had then been left on the doorstep of the Magical Italian Embassy to bleed to death. She was found moments before death, but only managed a few words of Italian, befuddled and confused. They had had to do a genetic identification spell in order to identify her, and even afterwards, Harry had had to ask Hermione who she was. 

Isaac Newton had been found three weeks later, decapitated, on the front lawn of the Academy of Alchemical Science near Cambridge. It had taken quite a bit of spellwork to figure out that the spell used to decapitate him had been a simple _Diffindo_. Until the results came in, Harry hadn’t even known the spell could be used on living things. And then there was the latest victim, Celestina Warbeck, found in front of Hogsmeade Station, her vocal chords ripped out by what looked like an angry dog. Further investigation had found a stray with traces of the _Oppugno_ curse. All of the victims had displayed traces of the Cruciatus Curse. 

When he had examined every murder victim to the last detail, Snape looked up at Harry with an expression Harry couldn’t decipher. “This is Dolohov’s work. Each of the victims was killed by one of his favored methods. I’ve not seen another choose this particular set of spells for their arsenal. And he is the only person I have ever known to use _Diffindo_ to sever a head from a body.”

“You’re certain?”

“Without catching him at it, no, but if I am correct, his next victim will be exsanguinated.”

Harry sighed and slumped into the chair next to Snape. “Bloody brilliant. Can you think what his reason might be for choosing these particular victims? We know they were all Muggleborns, but that seems to be the only common thread and it’s not much to work with. Why these people? I just can’t find a connection.”

“It is possible there is none. I recall that he had a strong dislike for Celestina’s music, and he generally disapproves of wizards who spend the majority of their lives living in the Muggle world, but other than that I could not say without further research.”

“What about the Time travel bit? Up until Warbeck was found, I thought maybe he’d just come across a powerful Time-Turner, but I’ve never heard of one that can move forwards as well as backwards in Time. Have you?”

Snape took a moment to consider before answering. “I confess I have not. Have you asked the Time Agent at the Department of Mysteries yet?”

“The what?”

Snape sneered at his ignorance. “The Time Agent. The Unspeakable in charge of the Time-Turners. Do they not brief you on the different departments within the Department of Mysteries during training?”

Harry tried not to look as shamefaced as he felt. “No, they work off the need-to-know theory. I suppose at this point I would fall into that category, but no one’s mentioned it yet. How do you know about it?”

“I was a member of the Inner Circle when the Dark Lord took possession of the entire Ministry. There is little about the Department of Mysteries I do not know. They may have changed the location of some of the departments, but I sincerely doubt they’ve ceased the Time Agency altogether.”

“Right. Why don’t I ask Malfoy who to get in contact with and we can meet again tomorrow?” Harry ignored the clench of Snape’s mouth at the mention of Draco’s name. Whatever was between them wasn’t his business.

“Will you be going to meet the Agent today? If so, I would like to go with you.” 

“I don’t know if you’re allowed...”

“Potter, you obviously understand little about Time travel, and that little undoubtedly was imparted to you by Miss Granger. If I do not come with you, this entire fiasco is likely to end in disaster.”

Harry fought the urge for violence and took a calming breath. “I am an Auror, Snape. I am not as incompetent as you believe me to be. If it will get me my perp, I am willing to learn whatever I need to.”

“Even so, I would like to attend so as to ask the Agent a few questions. Is that acceptable?” 

“Like I said, I don’t know if you’re allowed. I’ll talk to Malfoy. Do you want me to send in some tea?” Snape gave a short nod and pulled one of the victim’s files closer for a second look. Harry sent a clerk to fetch the tea in passing and went in search of Draco. The blond was sitting amongst a mountain of paperwork, looking about ready to burn the lot.

“Do me a favor and don’t almost get killed, Potter. The paperwork is monstrous,” he muttered, shoving a precariously stacked pile to the side and turning his attention to Harry.

“Duly noted. Do you know anything about a Time Agent in the Department of Mysteries?”

His question was met with an exasperated sigh. “Of course I do, Potter, and so would you, _had you actually listened to a word that was said at the meeting_. The current Time Agent is Alfonso Tiberon, and he has been awaiting you for three days. If you go down to the Department of Mysteries, all you need do is call out ‘Time waits for no man’ and you will be brought directly to his office.”

“Right, ta. Snape thinks it’s Dolohov. What do you reckon?”

Draco looked surprised. “Dolohov, really? I thought for sure he died during the Battle of Hogwarts, but we never recovered his body, so I suppose it’s a possibility.”

“I’ll have to re-check the records to make sure. Oh, and Snape is insisting he comes with me to speak to this Tiberon bloke. Is he allowed?”

“Yes, he’s been given temporary clearance. Again, had you been listening…”

“Yeah, all right, I get it. I’ll try to listen more, promise.” His tone implied that he had no such intention. Draco knew not to expect miracles. He dismissed him with a hand wave, tired of looking at his most frustrating Auror. 

“Tiberon usually goes home at six, so you might want to hurry if you intend to see him today.”

Harry checked his watch, cursed, and hurried out. He quickly collected Snape from the conference room and they made their way to the lift. 

“Level Nine, Department of Mysteries. I hope you’ve enjoyed a very pleasant ride, Mr. Potter,” spoke the flirtatious voice of the lift. Harry blushed and pretended not to hear it, but the raised eyebrow he received from Snape told him that it did not go unnoticed.

“Is there an entity in the Wizarding world that hasn’t fallen under the spell of the Great Harry Potter?” he asked sarcastically.

Harry shot him a look. “You.”

“Indeed, Mr. Potter.” He said no more, but the smirk remained. 

Harry mumbled a frustrated, “Sod off,” and led the way down the sparse, dank hallway to the black door of the Department of Mysteries. He slipped through the door without waiting for Snape, hoping it would slam in his face, but he had no such luck. He grumbled to himself as Snape stood next to him, still smirking. He directed his gaze to the circular room and its many doors, hoping to whatever deity ran this insane world that Malfoy hadn’t got the phrase wrong. “Time waits for no man.” 

The walls began to spin, as they had on other occasions, and Harry felt the remembered sense of nausea. He took ahold of Snape’s wrist to keep steady, not realizing he had done so until the room came to a stop and they were stood in front of a fuchsia door with ‘Time Agency’ written in silver script across the top. 

Harry’s first impression of Tiberon was that he had rather unnaturally large eyes. They were bright blue and the pupils, Harry could have sworn, were the size of galleons. Otherwise he was rather ordinary-looking, if a bit out-dated. Obviously he didn’t leave the office much, as his robes looked to be out of the seventies. He was friendly, though, and very enthusiastic to share his knowledge, which was all Harry cared about really.

“What you’re describing sounds to be a Sands of Time, but how the blast anyone outside my office would get a hold of one is beyond me. I’ve only ever heard of one in existence and it’s still where I left it, safe as can be.”

Harry exchanged a look with Snape. “May we see it?”

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s just over…” He turned to a section of shelves full of all sorts of Time-Turners and other paraphernalia, but paused. “Here… Now where the devil did I put that blasted thing? It was on that third shelf just there yesterday, I swear.” He huffed a bit and began to slowly deconstruct his office, digging through boxes and crates and desk drawers. His guests exchanged another look.

“Is it possible someone might have stolen it?” Harry’s question was met with a shake of the head.

“No, no, the wards down here are very strong, have been ever since your little break-in several years back, Mr. Potter. Really, you should have been given a medal just for prompting them to increase security. It was appalling beforehand… Here it is! I knew I’d just misplaced it. Theft, really, as if that were possible.” Snape had acquired a rather smug look during this diatribe and Harry had to pinch his arm to get him to stop. The next look told him that he would be paying dearly for the liberty.

They both focused in on the device in Tiberon’s hands. He gave it over to Harry for examination and he and Snape leant in to look. It was about the length of Harry’s hand and surprisingly light. The outer casing was a hollow rectangle of a dark cherry, nearly black in color, and painted on one side in gold lettering was the word ‘ _redeo_ ’, while the other side read ‘ _porro_ ’. Fastened inside the casing by a pin was an hourglass, about fifteen centimeters in height. The glass appeared to be able to spin, but was held in place by a small clasp. Fastened on the outside of one side of the casing was a set of concentric gold dials, the largest of which had the word ‘ _annus_ ’ inscribed around the edge. From there the increasingly smaller dials read ‘ _mensis_ ’, ‘ _hebomas_ ’, ‘ _dies_ ’, ‘ _hora_ ’, and ‘ _minuta_ ’.

Harry turned the device over several times before handing it to Snape. “How does it work?”

“It’s simple, really. You move the dials on the side there. Yes, just there, Mr. Snape, to whatever amount of Time you would like to move through. Once it is set correctly, you unclasp the hourglass. If you desire to go backwards, as you would with a conventional Time-Turner, you simply spin it backwards however many turns are necessary, and off you are. If you desire to go to the future, you simply turn it forwards. Everyone traveling with you must be touching the device, just as with a Portkey. It’s best to research your area and try as best you can to stand where there are not likely to be any obstacles in your way so that accidents don’t occur, but other than that, it is fairly simple.”

“Have you been able to use it successfully?” Snape asked.

“No, not as such. I very rarely attempt to use any of my devices. I am old enough as it is without having to live bits over again.” His eyes twinkled in a manner that reminded Harry of Dumbledore.

“How are you to know whether or not any of your equipment works, if you refuse to use it? We could be thrown into the ether, never to return,” Snape snapped.

“We? Who said we were using it?” Harry whipped his head around to look at Snape.

“How precisely do you intend to catch a Time-traveling killer without traveling in Time yourself?”

“I…” Shit, he had a point. “I guess you’re right. Agent Tiberon?”

“Well… I suppose you’ll just have to give it a go and find out, won’t you? Maybe give it a quick test run?” He looked eager to find out if it worked, or maybe just to get rid of them so that he could go home for the night, Harry couldn’t decide. He and Snape exchanged another look. 

“I’ll have to clear it with Malfoy. Can we take this with us?”

“Of course! Please let me know how it goes.” He beamed. Harry was beginning to get annoyed with the enthusiasm of this man.

“Will do. Let’s go, Snape. Hopefully Malfoy’s still in his office.”

Snape grumbled but followed reluctantly, device in hand. It took much less time for them to reach the Auror department than it had to reach the Time Agent’s office, mainly because there were very few people still left at the Ministry that late in the evening. They were soon standing in Malfoy’s office, Snape looking tense enough to blow a blood vessel. Whatever had happened between Malfoy and Snape, it was definitely intense. 

“Tiberon hasn’t checked the Sands of Time to see if it works. Would it be all right if we tested it out? In case we need it for the case?”

Draco studied him for a long time, quiet and a little tense around the mouth. “Do you recall what I said to you earlier about causing yourself bodily harm while on duty?”

“Don’t do it.”

“He can be trained! Don’t get either one of you hurt. I’ve had enough incident reports for a month, thanks to Raddish’s idiotic handling of the werewolf case. I don’t want any more, understood?”

“Got it. See you when we get back, then?” He flashed Draco a grin and turned to leave.

“Have a nice evening, both of you. You’re looking well, Severus.” 

Harry heard a growl leave Snape’s throat just as the door shut behind them. Harry led him to his office and shut the door. There weren’t many people still in that late, but Harry knew those that were still there would ask too many questions. “So, past or future?” he asked, turning to his counterpart. He received an arched brow.

“The future, I think. That way if we run into ourselves, we will know what we are about.”

“That makes sense. Okay, he said you have to set the dial first…” It took several minutes and a small argument for them to prepare the device. Snape unclasped the hourglass and spun it three times. There was a loud boom like a firecracker, and everything went spinning around them. Harry was reminded of Floo travel, though without the soot and a greater feeling that he was going to lose his lunch.


	2. Part II

When their surroundings finally came to a halt, they weren’t in the office anymore. As far as Harry could tell, they weren’t even in the Ministry. Instead they were in what looked like a very old Tube station that had been converted into a military bunker. There was loads of computer equipment and strange machinery Harry didn’t recognize. And there were alarms, loud ones that had Harry wincing and covering his ears. He instinctively went for his wand and saw that Snape had done so as well.

After a minute, the alarms abruptly shut off, the lights stopped flashing, and a quiet settled over the room. Then, there was a sound of heavy footsteps on metal flooring. They both looked up to see a man—a bloody gorgeous man—leaning over a banister of a walkway a floor above them, watching them calmly. “Hello,” he said in a pleasant American accent. Fuck, were they in America? “You don’t have to look so scared; you’re safe. Where are you from?”

The two exchanged a look. “London. What is this place?” Harry asked, beyond confused. Had they stumbled into some sort of secret American military base? Fucking perfect. This was going to be a _monster_ to clean. Malfoy was going to have a fit.

“Nevermind what this place is. Suffice it to say that you are in Cardiff, or rather _under_ Cardiff. The question is, how did you get here?” He started walking towards them. “And do you know what the date is today?” 

“Er…” Harry glanced at Snape. He knew what day they were _supposed_ to be at and what day they had come from…

“It is difficult to explain, but it is either eight o’clock in the evening of 10 June 2008 or 10 September 2008.”

The man paused in stepping down a metal stairway. “It’s June. But… you’re from 2008?” He looked about as confused as Harry felt. If it was still June, that meant they hadn’t moved in Time at all, but rather in space. That couldn’t be right, could it? He would have to discuss this with Tiberon when they got back to the Ministry.

Harry was about to answer calmly, but Snape barked at the man before he got the chance. “Of course we are, where else would we be from?” Harry tried to put a hand on his arm to calm him, but that only seemed to make him more agitated. “Where are we, exactly? We were just in London, and I was under the impression that we were to remain in London. I’ve never been anywhere in Cardiff that looks like this place.” 

The man studied them for a minute, still paused on the stairway, before apparently coming to a decision. “You are at Torchwood headquarters, underneath the Wales Millennium Centre. What were you doing before you got here?” By this time he had reached them and Harry could get a good look. He was very attractive indeed, tall with dark hair, bright blue eyes, and an exquisitely chiseled jaw. Very masculine, but a bit like the Time Agent in that he looked to be dressed out of another era. He was wearing braces for Merlin’s sake! How many Muggles did that nowadays?

“We were running a highly classified government experiment.”

The stranger turned his eyes away from Harry, where he had been looking him up and down with as much interest as Harry felt, and smiled a false smile at Snape. “Torchwood is above government clearances. What were you doing?”

“None of your business. Suffice it to say it went wrong.”

“I don’t know about that. I’d say it went very, very right.” He leered at Harry for a minute before holding out his hand. “Captain Jack Harkness. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The ‘pleasure’ bit came out as a purr that sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. He took hold of the hand and shook it for rather longer than necessary. His hand was smooth and strong and Harry couldn’t help but imagine it running all over his body.

“Aur—er, Harry Potter, and my companion is Severus Snape.”

“Severus Snape, eh? That’s quite a name you have there, Mr. Snape.” That earned him a glare and an unshaken hand. “Tell me, if you’re from present day, why are you dressed that way? A bit early for Halloween, isn’t it?” And Snape’s wand was raised. Fuck, Malfoy was going to kill him.

“It’s a long story. Do you mind if you could possibly tell us what Torchwood is? Are you connected with MI5? It’s just, our department’s a bit top secret and they don’t let us out much. We’ve never heard of you.”

“I’ll answer that as soon as you tell me why your rather surly friend over here has a piece of wood pointed at me. Is that some sort of weapon? Because I can’t decide if he’s trying to threaten me or proposition me.” 

Snape sneered and pressed the wand into Harkness’s cheek. “It’s a wand, and if you enjoy breathing you will cease in asking idiotic questions. Answer Potter’s query.”

“Now look here. You show up unannounced at my headquarters and expect me to just start answering _your_ questions? I don’t think so.” He went on the defensive, drawing an old-fashioned revolver from his belt to counter the wand. Bloody fucking wonderful, Malfoy was _really_ going to kill him now.

“Look, we’re sorry for barging in and all. We were testing a device that allows its user to travel through Time, but it must have malfunctioned and spit us out here. I don’t know why, since I’m still a bit unclear about where exactly _here_ is, but violence is not necessary. Put the wand down, Severus. I don’t think he’ll hurt us if we can just explain. We’ll Obliviate later.” Harry put a hand on Snape’s wrist and gave him a significant look. Snape was about to acquiesce when Harkness dropped his revolver arm and cocked his head at them like a curious dog. 

“Wait, so that’s really a wand? Like a magic wand? What were you planning to do with it? Pull a rabbit out of a hat?” He was grinning, obviously about to laugh.

And Snape had his wand an inch from the man’s perfect nose again. _Fuck_. “You cannot even begin to comprehend the pain I can inflict on you with one flick of this wand. Greater men than you have died by it. Do. Not. Test. Me.”

“Severus! Relax!” Harry quickly placed himself between the two men and tried to make eye contact with his agitated former professor.

It was at that moment that they were interrupted by a new voice, Welsh this time. “Are you in need of assistance, sir?” Harry and Snape both looked to see a man about Harry’s age standing in a doorway watching them. 

“These two came out of the Rift, claiming to have a magic wand. I was just about to ring you.”

“There is no ‘claim’ about it. This _is_ a wand. Would you like me to demonstrate my abilities? I would be more than happy to hex your bullocks off for you, if you like.”

“Perhaps coffee would be in order, sir?” the newcomer suggested, sounding very much like a butler. Harry took a closer look. He was also very attractive, and impeccably dressed in a black pinstriped suit with pink shirt and tie underneath. Harry imagined it was the sort of thing Malfoy might wear, were he into Muggle dress.

The Captain paused, eyeing the wand at his face. “Yes, I think coffee is a great idea. Why don’t we all go to the conference room to talk?”

Harry thought this a reasonable proposition, assuming they weren’t simply planning on luring them to a holding cell, in which case Harry wouldn’t stop Snape hexing them. He looked at Severus. “That sounds like a smashing idea. Why don’t you put the wand away, Severus, and we can all have a sit down like rational adults, hmm?” He felt oddly off-balance having to talk his former professor down from doing something rash. Wasn’t this the sort of thing Snape was supposed to stop _him_ from doing?

Slowly, and with quite a bit of reluctance, the wand was lowered and placed back up his sleeve. “I suppose that would be acceptable, though I would prefer tea, and do not think about putting anything in it. I can detect all forms of poison.” He gave the Captain a glare, but followed him through an arched doorway. Harry followed behind Snape, looking about him the whole time with a growing conviction that they were in a military bunker. The lighting was quite old and resembled those used in the bunkers from the Great War, or at least what Harry could remember of them from the tour he took with Hermione and Ron six years ago at a bunker underneath Dover Castle.

The conference room turned out to be a variation on the general theme of converted military bunker. The room was concrete with the same rickety lighting system, but the conference table was modern, and the back wall was covered in sleek wood paneling and a large flat screen telly. They sat down at the table while the Captain spoke into what looked like a space-age Bluetooth device, contacting someone named Gwen. 

“We need to _Obliviate_ them and leave, Potter. This is going to end in disaster,” Snape whispered under his breath.

Harry shook his head and leaned into his ear. “Wait until they explain where we are and what they’re doing. I can’t write a report that Malfoy won’t kill me for without at least some information about where we ended up. And besides, aren’t you curious? They didn’t even react when we said we had a Time travel device. Something’s going on here and I want to find out what. Just be patient.” He smiled up at Snape and patted his knee for reassurance. Not surprisingly, Snape shifted uncomfortably away from the touch. 

Just then the Welshman entered with a silver tea tray of coffee mugs and began serving. Harry saw Snape perform a wandless detection spell on both their cups before taking his in hand. Harry assumed that meant they were safe and snatched his up. And Bloody Fucking Merlin was that the best coffee he’d ever tasted. He looked up at the Welshman in wonder, unable to put his pleasure into words. His look of disbelieving wonder was met with a smug smirk. Harry glanced at Snape, wondering how the tea was in comparison.

“All right, since you gentlemen crashed into our building, why don’t you explain yourselves first?” Harkness asked as he sat down across from them.

Harry glanced at Snape before taking a deep breath. He hated having to give this speech. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Most definitely.” The saucy grin was back, despite an eye roll from his companion. Harry tried to ignore the stirring in his trousers.

“Right. We’re wizards, real wand-waving, spell-casting wizards. None of the pagan Wicca, sacrificing goats bit.” He glanced at Snape. “At least not for most of us. We were testing out a sort of magical Time machine called a Sands of Time, but it must have gone wrong because we weren’t supposed to leave my office, just go a few months into the future. If you could tell us precisely where we are, I might be able to give you more information as to what happened.”

“You’re a wizard,” the Welshman said, voice and face flat deadpan.

“Yes,” Snape countered, matching his tone.

“Prove it.” 

Snape went for his wand, but Harry stopped him, worried about what he would do. Instead, Harry took his own wand out and transfigured the coffeepot into a Great Dane. The two men stared in awe for a moment, then looked at each other. 

“That’s fantastic!” Harkness exclaimed, moving to pet it. The dog turned, sniffed him, then proceeded to lick his face. He started to giggle while the Welshman continued to stare at it unemotionally.

“That is quite a trick.”

Harry frowned, disappointed that he hadn’t shocked the man, and was about to change it back when a dark-haired woman came rushing in from the corridor only to stop dead in her tracks at the sign of the giant dog standing on the table. When she spoke, it was also with a Welsh accent. “Why is there a Great Dane standing on the table?”

“Harry here just made it out of the coffeepot with his magic wand.”

“There’s no more coffee?” she responded, still looking a bit shell-shocked. Harkness rolled his eyes and waved at Harry to turn it back. He did so quickly and tucked his wand back in its holster.

“Believe us now?” Snape asked, still a bit hostile.

“Yes, but I still have about a million questions. Can you use that thing during sex?”

Harry grinned and was about to answer, but was stopped by Snape’s vicious glare. “We have told you what we are and what we know of how we came to be here. It is your turn to tell us who and what you are.”

“Hang on, no one’s told me who and what you are. What’s going on, here, Jack? Who are these two and where’d the dog go?” She sat on the other side of him and took the coffee the Welshman had left for her. Harkness patiently explained what had happened and what Harry had told them of what they were. She looked disbelieving momentarily until Harry once more transfigured the coffeepot into peacock and back, then she looked extremely excited. “That’s brilliant! What else can you do?”

Harry was prevented once more from answering by Snape’s snarling voice. “Again, we have already explained ourselves sufficiently. Will you or will you not tell us who you are?”

The cocky smile left Harkness’s face and he nodded. “Fair enough. As I’ve already told you, you are in Torchwood Cardiff. We are an agency of the Crown dedicated to monitoring alien activity on Earth and fluctuations in Time, caused by the Rift through Time and space that runs through Cardiff. You fell out of our Rift manipulator, which is the device we use to help regulate the Time Rifts and monitor fluctuations in Time.”

“Aliens?” Harry murmured, disbelieving. Snape was more shrewd.

“Why were you not surprised to see us when we first appeared?”

“You aren’t our first drop-ins. Usually people don’t show up directly in headquarters, but it isn’t unusual for strangers to show up from other Times. I assumed from the way you’re dressed that that was the case.”

“I assumed they were part of a Renaissance Fair,” Jones offered.

“Yes, why are you dressed that way?” the woman, Gwen, asked.

“Standard wizarding dress. Well, mine’s a uniform; I’m a Senior Auror, sort of the magical version of MI5, and I was on duty.”

“And you? Are you wearing the uniform for something? A vampire clan maybe? Ouch!” Snape had managed to hit Jones with a stinging hex before Harry could stop him.

“Snape! Stop hexing the Muggles!”

“He implied that I was a bloodsucker.”

“Every student you’ve ever taught has thought the same thing sometime along the line! Keep your wand in your pocket, please.” This earned him a glare, but the wand was put away, so Harry ignored it.

“What’s a Muggle?” Jones asked, looking slightly annoyed at having to do so.

“That’s what we call people without magic. It’s against the law to show ourselves to Muggles without permission from the Ministry.”

“And yet you’re telling us,” stated Harkness.

“Not much of a choice, was there? Just don’t spread it around, or I’ll have to wipe your memories.”

The two others looked about to protest, but Harkness cut them off before anything could be said. “So, Mr. Snape, you’re a teacher?”

“Former teacher. I run an apothecary’s shop now, but I am currently assisting this bumbling idiot with an investigation.”

All three sat up. “What sort of investigation?”

“Can we get back to the part where you catch aliens? What do you mean, exactly? Are we talking Pakistani nationals or little green men?” Harry asked, trying to divert them.

“I’ve never found a species of little green men, but we do catch creatures from other planets, yes. Since the human race has yet to make official alien contact, our job is to neutralize any possible situations between humans and aliens before they become public.”

“And what do you do with them once you’ve caught them?”

“Depends on the alien. The more dangerous ones we keep in holding cells, some we send back through the Rift. A lot of our more advanced equipment was harvested from them.”

“Interesting choice of words. Don’t you mean stolen?”

“If you like. Our job is to arm the human race against alien invasion. We are willing to do whatever is necessary to achieve that goal.” Harkness looked them over shrewdly. Harry shifted in his seat and Snape snarled at the Captain in response.

“If you think you will be harvesting _us_ , think again. You may have powerful weaponry, but we have magic. I know thirty ways to kill all three of you without even having to stand up. You will not win.” Harry shot him a look, uncertain whether he was bluffing or not. With Snape, you never knew.

“Look, maybe we can help each other. You say you deal with fluctuations in Time. Does that mean you also have a way to determine when there are deviations?”

“What sort of deviations?” Jones asked.

“Kidnappings. We’re investigating a serial killer who’s been kidnapping famous historical figures, murdering them, and leaving them in high-profile magical locations. If we had a way of tracking his movements through Time, we might be able to catch him.” 

That got their attention. All eyes turned to Harry. “Who are we talking about? Anyone we might have heard of?” Harkness asked.

“Sure, Lord Byron, Lucrezia Borgia, Isaac Newton, and a wizard singer named Celestina Warbeck. She’s still alive in the present though. We estimate that he took her ten to fifteen years from now.”

“Lucrezia? Too bad. She was a knock-out.” This appeared to throw even his own colleagues for a loop. “What? We had a bit of a thing before she married her third husband. She threw great parties.”

“ _You_ dated Lucrezia Borgia?” Gwen asked, incredulous. 

“Well yeah; she couldn’t resist me. And really, who could blame her?” He flashed her a grin.

“Do you have an idea of how he is going about taking these people?” Jones asked, ignoring the comment.

“We think he’s using one of these.” Harry set the Sands of Time on the table. Jones left the room momentarily and came back with what looked like an industrial-strength Blackberry. Harkness had shifted the Sands of Time around to examine it and Jones leaned over him with his device, shining a blue laser over it.

“Not detecting any alien activity.”

“It isn’t alien, you imbecile. It’s magical,” Snape snapped at him.

“So you’ve said. And you think your guy is using one of these to snatch people from other Times?”

“Yes, but like I said, we don’t have a way to track him yet. Do you have a way to do it? Otherwise it will take weeks for a spell to be developed, and who knows how many more could be killed by then.”

“We might. Do you have anything biological on this guy? Blood or tissue samples found on any of the victims?”

Harry thought for a minute. “I don’t know for sure. He’s done several stints in our prison, so they might have collected samples there. I’d have to check.”

“Well, do that, then. We could probably connect to this thing’s frequency, but it’s better if we have a link to the perpetrator.” Harry nodded, suddenly very excited that they might have a lead. “So, does this mean you’ll help, then?” he asked, just to make sure.

“That depends. You said we could help each other, but so far I haven’t heard what’s in it for us.” 

“There’s all sorts of things we could do for you. I can do protection spells for you or put up alarm wards that are much stronger than anything you could come up with.”

“I highly doubt that,” said Jones, giving Harry a steady, unimpressed stare.

“I know a ward that will stop anyone who isn’t directly involved in your… Torchwood program from entering the building without your supervision. If they try when not accompanied by one of you, they would automatically be bound, gagged, and sent to a spot of your choosing.”

That apparently shut the Welshman up. He looked to Harkness, who was studying him intently. “Could you really do that?”

“Yes, it’s one of the wards I put on my own home.”

“We’re going to need a minute to talk this over.”

“All right. I need to contact my superior anyway, let him know what’s going on.” If he didn’t, Malfoy would kill him. That is, if he hadn’t already done so for getting himself and Snape into the situation in the first place. 

The three Muggles stood and went into the corridor to discuss their options. In the meantime, Harry took his communication galleon out of his pocket and tapped it twice with his wand. There was a minute of silence in which Snape gave him the evil eye and muttered about him behaving like a fool before he could hear Malfoy’s groggy voice. “What, Potter? It’s past midnight.”

“I have a problem.”

There was what sounded like a growl at the other end of the line. “If this requires more paperwork, you’re fired.” Harry rolled his eyes, but launched into their story, not stopping until he was finished even though Malfoy had tried to interrupt several times. At the end of the story there was silence for a minute and then, “You’re fired.”

Harry ignored the comment, knowing Draco wasn’t serious. “So, do I have your permission to bring them in or not? They could really be an asset if they have a way to track him. Otherwise it would take us weeks to develop anything, and that could mean more deaths.”

“Fine, but I’m going to murder you if there are anymore incidents in this investigation. Understood?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Whatever, Potter. I’ll see you and your new friends tomorrow morning.” The connection was ended and Harry put the coin away. By this time the others had returned and were talking to Snape. Or at least they were trying to talk to Snape. The man was clearly proving to be difficult. Harry decided to cut in before Snape became agitated again. Arrangements were made to meet in London the next morning and Harry and Snape were finally able to Apparate back to the Ministry. They arrived to a near-empty Ministry lobby, the only occupant a dozing night guard. Snape glared at Harry. “You are a complete imbecile. We should have Obliviated them and been done with it.”

“Are you serious? We may have a way to catch Dolohov because of them! And did you listen to what they were saying? Aliens! There are real, live aliens! We’re not the weirdest thing in this world. Not by half! How are you not excited?” Harry himself had to strongly resist the urge to bounce in his own exuberance. 

“I am not yet convinced that they were telling the truth, or that they will not attempt to ‘harvest’ us, as they phrased it. Thanks to your foolishness, they now have a way of garnering our trust, and possibly destroying us once this ordeal is finished. I would have hoped your Auror training might have expelled at least a portion of your Gryffindor impulsiveness.”

Harry brushed off the insult, too excited to really be offended. “Impulsive or not, I have great instincts and I know this is going to turn out all right. But if you can’t trust my instincts, you aren’t obligated to continue helping me. You’re welcome to go back to the shop.”

Harry hadn’t noticed they were standing so close together until he saw something flicker in Snape’s eyes at his words. For a brief moment, he thought the man might kiss him. In that same moment, he thought he might let him.

“I will stay, if only to assure myself that you don’t die.” There was a roughness to his voice that hinted at arousal. Harry was definitely about to be kissed.

He smirked as sexily as he could manage and leaned a bit closer. “I didn’t know my life mattered that much to you.”

“Yes, well…” Just another inch and…

“Oi, what’s this then? What are you lot doing here this time of night?” The booming voice of the formerly dozing guard interrupted their moment and Snape abruptly pulled away.

“Sorry, we’re just leaving. Have a nice night, sir.” Harry managed, tugging Snape toward the Floos. A minute later they were standing in the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry attempted to get back the moment. “Will I see you tomorrow, then?” he asked, sidling up to his companion. Snape halted, clearly uncomfortable. 

“I suppose so, yes. I will see you in the morning.” He Apparated away before Harry could say goodnight, leaving Harry feeling disappointed and annoyed. And horny. _Fuck_. Oh well, tomorrow was another day. 

*

Harry met the Torchwood group at the intersection where the Ministry’s phone box stood the next morning. Snape had declined to come, choosing instead to remain at the office. His behavior had been odd, halting and uncomfortable even for Snape, and Harry hadn’t known how to handle him, so he had allowed the anti-social behavior and braved the Muggle street alone. He’d been leaning against the phone box, munching on his morning bagel for only a minute before the massive black Land Rover pulled up. It was so large it took up nearly the entire narrow back street and Harry doubted traffic would be able to pass it while it was parked there. He straightened as the group got out of the SUV, smiling and offering a greeting. All three looked confused as they approached him.

“So where is this place?” Harkness asked, looking around. Harry pointed to the ground beneath his feet. “And how do we get there?”

“You’re standing in front of it. It’ll be a tight squeeze, I’m afraid.”

Harkness gave him one of those smiles that made him shiver. “The tighter the better.” He turned to Gwen—Harry still didn’t know her last name. “Ladies first.” She grinned at him and stepped in. A minute and a little effort later, they had all squeezed inside and Harry was ringing the number. The way down was quiet, the noises of surprise Harry had been expecting peculiarly absent. Not that Harry had much time to think about, since Harkness had maneuvered himself directly behind him and his hot breath against Harry’s neck combined with the feel of his hard, hot body against Harry’s back proved an insurmountable distraction to him.

They were able to skip the security check-point, but the line for the lifts was ridiculous this time of day and Harry had no way to bypass it, so they waited. Harry spent the time quietly answering questions about the constantly flashing Floos, the wizarding fashion that surrounded them, the memos floating above their heads, waiting for the lifts as well. The questions were thoughtful, cautious, but respectful, and mostly came from the woman, Gwen. Harry could tell from the pattern of her questions that she had once been a member of the police force, and it made him wonder how she had come into this alien-hunting business. Harkness and Jones listened to his explanations, but seemed content just to observe their surroundings without the same sense of needing to know the who, what, when, where, and how of the situation. Harry couldn’t help but notice the close proximity they kept to each other and the occasional intimate look that passed between them, and took note of it in his head.

Once they arrived at his office, the briefing itself was just that, brief, and they were all crowded into the evidence locker, sifting through boxes in search of a biological sample by noon. Even Snape helped, though he grumbled about having to listen to idle chatter and outrageous flirtations the entire time. For Harry’s part, he did his best to act the professional, but with the occasional appraising looks and brushes of body to body in the cramped room, it was difficult to keep himself under control. And the whole time his brain kept falling back to the night before in the lobby and the almost kiss. Was his sudden attraction to Snape triggered by the sexual attention he was receiving from Harkness, or was he really attracted to the man based on his own attributes alone? 

He thought about it as they worked, snatching glances at the man whenever he wasn’t looking. A stranger might look at Snape and automatically write him off as ugly, but Harry knew him, knew what sort of man he was, and that knowledge couldn’t be discounted. When Harry looked at Snape, he couldn’t help but see the strength of character, the sharp intellect, the wit. And there was still that something about the man that he couldn’t quite put a finger on, whether it was contentment, happiness, or something else. Perhaps he’d been bedding that young assistant of his. Harry couldn’t say for certain, but there was a pleasant aura about him that hadn’t been there when Harry had still been his student. 

“You said this guy’s name is Dolohov, right?” Harkness asked, interrupting Harry’s thoughts. He turned to Harkness only to find a paper sack in his hand. He nodded at the question and Harkness brought the sack closer. “The writing on this bag claims it’s a sample used during the analysis of his wand. I don’t know what that means, but if it’s connected to him, we might be able to use it.” 

Harry took the sack from him and looked inside. It was a sliver taken from Dolohov’s wand. “Well, this is from his wand, and if he’s still using the same one, then he’ll have it on him at all times. Wizards, especially dangerous ones, don’t go anywhere without their wands.”

“Is there any reason he might have changed wands?”

“No, not unless his was stolen from him in a duel, and I’m sure an event like that would have shown up in his file, even as a rumor. It doesn’t happen often.”

“Sounds like we’ve found our sample, then; shall we clean up?” Gwen suggested, head peeking over a rather tall tower of boxes.

Harry agreed and soon everything had been re-packed and organized and they had convened to his office to decide how to proceed. It was agreed that Torchwood would return to Cardiff and run a trace using the wand splinter. Harry arranged for them to take a Ministry owl with them, as he didn’t have regular access to a phone and they would be unable to use the communication galleons. He showed them how to use the owl, and they agreed to send a message as soon as their detection software found a hint of Dolohov. With everything settled, they were able to leave by dinner time.

Harry returned from escorting them to the lift and was surprised to see Snape still there. “I thought you’d have gone home by now.”

“It is rude to leave without saying goodbye. If you had any sense of decorum, you would know that.” 

Harry forgave the sneering response, knowing that Snape’s nerves were frayed. He did not like the members of Torchwood, and having to spend the entire day with them had clearly set him even further on edge than he normally would have been. “Are you hungry?” he asked, trying to be casual. By the look on Snape’s face, it hadn’t worked.

“Are you attempting to ask me to dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be paying?”

“Will you only come if I do?” 

“Perhaps.”

“Then, yes, I will pay. How’s curry sound?”

“That would be acceptable, as long as the restaurant is not the one in Diagon Alley. The man who owns it has a dislike of me and I suspect he spits in my food.” Harry tried to hide the smile at this behind a cough, completely unsurprised by this declaration. He wouldn’t be surprised if half the restaurants Snape had visited had tampered with his food, given his usual attitude.

“Let’s go Muggle, then. There’s a great place ‘round the corner that has a very nice lamb tikka.”

“If you insist.” He looked much put-upon as he stood to leave, but Harry could tell that he secretly wanted to go. The loud growl that emitted from his stomach just as they hit street level confirmed this. 

“So, I know you aren’t particularly fond of Muggles, but why do you hate the Torchwood team so much? They’re helping us,” Harry asked after they had been seated and ordered their dinners. 

“I dislike the Welsh.” 

“Captain Harkness is an American.”

“He makes overt sexual advances towards you. It is incredibly unprofessional.” He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

Harry grinned, amused by his discomfort. “I don’t mind. He has a nice arse, or didn’t you notice?”

“I did not. I was too distracted by his unprofessional behavior.”

“Well, what would it matter if he was making sexual advances towards me? It isn’t as though anyone else is offering.” This earned him a raised eyebrow. “Well, no one who isn’t just interested in me for my fame. That is, unless you were interested.” 

“Even if I were, I highly doubt my suit would be considered.” 

“You’d be surprised.” He took a swig of his Kingfisher and glanced at Snape over his bottle, hoping it didn’t look as though he were batting his eyelashes like a girl. Snape cleared his throat loudly and looked around the restaurant. By the time he’d relaxed enough to look Harry in the eye again, dinner had arrived and conversation shifted to their respective plates. They ate quietly, Harry occasionally stealing bits from Snape’s plate and offering bites from his tikka in turn. 

The conversation was not revisited, even after the bill had been paid and they were walking to an abandoned alley to Apparate. Harry moved close to him in the dark alley, hoping for a repeat of the night before, minus the interruption. “So, will I see you tomorrow, or are you going to go back to the shop until some new evidence shows up?”

“There is no reason for me not to return to my shop. There is nothing further to do until either another body is found or those Muggles find a location for Dolohov. And I have quite a bit of brewing to catch up on. My assistant is competent, but he will need a few more years practice before his brewing is on level with that of my own.”

“So, I won’t see you, then? Too bad. I like having you around.”

He raised an eyebrow, and if Harry hadn’t been standing so close, he might not have been able to see it. “That is a surprise. I was under the impression that you were only associating with me under coercion from Auror Malfoy.”

“It was his idea, yes, but it doesn’t follow that I dislike our time together.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm…” he murmured in agreement, stepping closer. Their lips were an inch apart. All Harry had to do was lean that little bit closer and they would be kissing, but he knew he had to let Snape make the first move. Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait. In a rush of heat, he was enveloped in strong arms, and thin, cool lips were pressed against his. He grinned against that mouth, wrapping his arms around Sna—Severus’s neck—it wasn’t right to think of someone in such informal terms when they were snogging you, was it?—and leaning into him. It really was quite a nice kiss, mouths moving smoothly against one another. He enjoyed the press of Severus’s body against his, the movement of Severus’s hands over his back to his arse, and the insistent way he was pulled closer. He let out a low moan and tried to lick his way into Severus’s mouth, but it and the body it belonged to were suddenly yanked away from him.

“I apologize. That was incredibly unprofessional. It won’t happen again. Goodnight.” The apology was said in a rush while Severus looked away, a very slight flush on his cheeks. Harry moved to touch him, shocked at the loss of contact, but he abruptly turned and Apparated away. Harry stood stunned in the alley, unable to process what had just happened. He had apologized? For the best kiss Harry had ever had? But… This didn’t make any sense. 

But as he thought about it, it did make sense. Severus had said that he did not like Harkness because the man insisted on making sexual advances on Harry, and now he had done so himself. Except that Harry had encouraged his advances, had sought out ways to be alone with the man specifically so that such advances could happen. He growled in frustration and Apparated to his flat. A minute later he was kneeling in front of his fireplace, complaining to Hermione about the unfairness of life. She was unsympathetic to his plight.


	3. Part III

It was two days, endless amounts of paperwork, and three two-hour-long lectures from Malfoy before there was any more activity in the case. In the meantime, Harry did not get a chance to speak to Severus, though he sent him two owls, neither of which garnered a response. He was able to speak with Tiberon about the Sands of Time malfunctioning, though. Tiberon had taken the device back and given it a thorough examination, only to conclude that it was working perfectly. He theorized that rather than the device malfunctioning, Harry and Severus had simply been caught up in a Time Rift that had occurred just as they activated the device, and had reacted badly with the device and thrown them into Torchwood rather than further forward in Time. Harry had left the office feeling slightly confused and wishing that Severus had been there to better explain the situation. His owls continued to remain unanswered.

Harry was contemplating trying to contact Severus for a third time when his office was rushed by an irritated Malfoy. “I need you go to Kenmare Stadium right away, and take Severus if you can. I think we might have another victim from the future on our hands.”

“Who?” he asked, standing and pulling on his cloak. 

“Aidan Kiely. Michael Stormbrewer is waiting for you.”

“Right, thanks. I’ll see you later, then.” 

Malfoy nodded and stepped out of the way for him to leave. He hurried down the corridor and hopped onto the nearest lift, cursing the anti-Apparition wards for the umpteenth time that month. Thankfully, there were only two stops this go, and he was outside and at Severus’s shop within three minutes. It wasn’t open yet, but Harry could see a light on in the back, so he pounded on the front door until Severus’s infuriated face finally appeared from behind the counter. Harry could see his lips moving in a litany of curses as he went to open the door, and he knew he was in for a fight.

“What could you possibly want this early in the morning, Potter? My shop isn’t even open yet.”

“There’s been another murder, and I need you to come with me to check for signs of Doholov. Is your assistant in?”

“That is of no consequence. Why do you assume that I have decided to continue assisting on this case?”

Harry glared at him and had to fight the urge to shout. “You bloody well insisted on it the other day! Don’t tell me you’ve decided to quit because of the other night.”

Snape’s look turned ice cold. “This has nothing to do with the other night.”

“Then, what’s the problem? You were really keen before. And this way, you have a chance to view the actual scene, rather than just photos of it. You might be able to pick up on a lot more with fresh evidence. But it won’t be fresh if we don’t leave now, so please, let’s save the fight for later and just go, please.” Snape looked ready to continue his protests, but Harry returned his glare. “Do you want out? Because if you do, tell me right now.” 

“I… do not, no. Where has this victim been found?”

Harry’s anger deflated. “Kenmare Stadium,” he answered.

“I have never been there.” 

“I’ll Side-Along you, but can we hurry? Malfoy didn’t give me many details and I’m a bit anxious.”

“Yes, just give me a moment to lock-up and write a note for Algernon.” He disappeared back into the shop and behind the counter to the back laboratory. Harry leaned a shoulder against the door jamb and waited. It was only a minute before he was being ushered onto the pavement and Severus was performing the complicated set of locking charms he used to secure his shop door. Once he was finished, Harry took his hand without asking and Apparated them to the front entrance of Kenmare Stadium. Severus pulled his hand back immediately, but Harry ignored his surly behavior and headed to the front doors. 

Three check-points later, Harry was standing in a group with Stormbrewer, the team manager, the groundskeeper who had found the body, and Aidan Kiely himself, alive and healthy. “All right, why exactly do you believe that the body over there is Mr. Kiely if Mr. Kiely is standing right in front of me?”

“He has my same tattoos, in the same places. We checked. And we found my wand on him, only I’ve my wand on me and I got it from Ollivander’s, and you know that old man don’t make the same wand twice, does he?” Harry felt a bit sick at the mention of the wandmaker, reminded of the last time he had seen the man, but he nodded and urged the Seeker to continue. “He’s a bit older than I am, looks to have a few injuries I don’t, but he has my wedding ring, with the same inscription on the inside and all, and no one knows about that but me and my wife, so it’s got to be me. Only I hope it’s not, ‘cause that means I’m done-for before I’m old and grey, and I don’t like that one bit.”

“Of course not, Mr. Kiely, but we can’t be certain the body is your future self until the tests have been completed. I think it would be best if you went home and had a nice cup of tea, and we’ll contact you with the results later, hmm?”

“I’d rather stay, if you don’t mind, Mr. Potter, sir.” 

Harry nodded reluctantly, disliking the idea of the victim remaining at the scene, and disliking even more being called ‘Mr. Potter, sir’ by someone five years his senior. He gave the man a reassuring smile and turned to the groundskeeper and the manager. “You found the body, Mr. —I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

“Limbern.”

“Mr. Limbern, thank you. It was you who found the body, then?”

“Yes, sir. I’d just got in, like, an' were ‘bout to begin workin’ when I saw a lump of summat lyin’ right o’er there. ‘Twas too far away to see for sure what it were, so I came up closer and saw ‘twere a body. Well, it gave me a bit of a fright, see, for sure, so I went and got Mr. Stormbrewer. ‘E were layin’ face-down on the grass, and we had’ta move ‘im over to see who he were.”

“You moved the body?”

“Just onto his back, to see his face. Was that wrong of us?” Mr. Stormbrewer asked, hesitant.

“It’s always better for the investigators to examine the body undisturbed. You never know what sort of evidence you could accidentally tamper with if you touch anything. What did you do once you turned the body over?”

“We saw that it were Aidan and called the ‘thorities immediately. I didn’t think that the body could be from the future, else I would have called the Aurors, like, and not the MLE officers.”

“That’s perfectly fine that you did. You weren’t to know that your crime could be linked to the other murders. When did you contact Mr. Kiely?”

“Well, first I fire-called Cassadie, ‘is wife, to break the news to ‘er, but then Aidan answered and I knew summat weren’t right. When the MLE officers got ‘ere and looked at the body, they contacted you lot, and I told Aidan to come. They haven’t told us any more, though, just asked us about the tattoos and the wand.”

Harry nodded, checking the Quick-Quotes Quill he had writing his notes for him (He normally hated the things, but Malfoy had insisted after one too many sets of illegible notes found their way to his desk). “Mr. Limbern, did you happen to notice anything unusual when you came to work today? Anything out of place or missing? Any doors open that shouldn’t be, that sort of thing?”

The groundskeeper thought for a moment, brows knitted tightly together, before shaking his head. “No, sir. Everythin’ were jus’ as it should be.”

“Mr. Stormbrewer? Mr. Kiely? I know you both came in understandably distracted, but have you noticed anything?”

Both men shook their heads as well. “No, nothing unusual except the body.”

“And you’ve checked your personal effects? Your office, Mr. Stormbrewer?” The manager shook his head and Harry looked to the Seeker. “Your locker, Mr. Kiely? Nothing has been taken or moved from it?”

“I haven’t had a chance to look yet, sir.” 

“Why don’t you go with Officer Horton here, and you can take a look to make sure?” He waved over one of the MLE officers he was familiar with and directed him to take Kiely to his locker. He didn’t expect them to find anything, but he felt more comfortable having Kiely away from the scene for a short while. Once they left, he turned back to the other two. “Is there anything else I should know about before I go talk to the medical examiner?”

“That’s about it, really. The officers know more than we do,” Mr. Stormbrewer said. 

Harry nodded again and thanked them for their help, assuring them that he would give them more information as he got it. He then made his way over to the medical examiner, Severus, and the body. While Harry had been speaking with the witnesses, Severus had been working with the medical examiner, examining the body. Harry walked to his side and looked down at the pale, lifeless body. The eyes were open, staring up at the cloudy morning sky, the look on his face that of excruciating pain. This certainly wasn’t the Killing Curse. The skin was completely white, bloodless, and it made Harry a bit sick to think that it was the body of the man he had just been talking to, healthy and tan from too much activity out of doors. It was a ghastly sight. 

“Bloody hell, he looks awful. What happened?”

“Exsanguination, I’m afraid. I don’t think a vampire was involved, though. I see no signs of puncture wounds and there aren’t any signs that he struggled against his attacker,” the medical examiner told him, glancing up from his crouched position. Harry made a sideways glance at Snape. 

_Fuck._ “Curse then?”

“I’ll have to do a full autopsy, but it looks that way. From what I can tell, there isn’t even any blood on his clothing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone did a banishing spell on it, but I don’t see how that’s possible.”

The look on Snape’s face was grim. “It is. It is not a…pleasant way to go.”

“Does he show any signs of being exposed to the Cruciatus Curse before he was killed?”

The ME reached over and pulled down one ghostly eyelid, looking closely at the sclera. “The veins show signs of trauma, but it’s harder to tell without any blood in them.” He performed a short diagnostic test and then nodded grimly. “Yes, this man has been exposed to the curse in the last forty-eight hours.”

“Brilliant. All the evidence seems to be pointing to our serial killer.” He looked around the pitch in desperation, hoping to find something to disprove his theory, but there was nothing. He turned his eyes to the medical photographer and watched him work while he thought of what to do next. “What do you think, Severus?”

“I think that it is looking more and more as though Mr. Dolohov is our suspect. I believe I told you that the next death would be exsanguination, did I not?”

“You did. Hopefully Torchwood can find him. Merlin knows what the connection is between the victims.” He sighed and scrubbed at his scalp with the nubs of his bitten fingernails. “Tom, do you think you can get a definite age on him? I think Mr. Kiely’s thirty-three at present, but clearly this body must be older if it is him. I’d like to get a fix on when exactly in Time he was taken.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I have him under a preserving charm now, but I should probably get him back to the lab so that I can do the autopsy. Is it all right if I take him?”

Harry checked with the photographer to make sure he’d got all the shots of the scene they would need before giving him leave. “How long before the results, you think?”

“I have a few other cases to deal with, but I should have something for you by this evening.”

“Sounds good. I’ll stop by the lab at five, how’s that?”

“Brilliant. See you then.” They shared a grim smile before Tom began to prepare the body for transport. Harry turned to Severus and found the man staring back at him.

“This is terrible. That body can’t be older than sixty. Poor Kiely.”

“Perhaps you should get in touch with those Muggles and see if they have detected anything. If they have not, we will know that the sample they are using is insufficient.” By the way he said it, it sounded as though he thought _they_ were insufficient rather than their sample.

“Right. Let’s wrap up here and we can Apparate over.”

“Must I accompany you?”

“Don’t you want to make sure they don’t harvest me?” He batted his eyelashes coquettishly before nudging Severus’s shoulder. Both his words and the nudge earned him a glare. He slumped and sighed. “Fine, I’ll go by myself. Do you want to come later to the morgue with me?”

“That would be acceptable.”

“Great. Meet me in my office at quarter to.” A quick nod later and Severus left. Harry spent another hour talking to people before popping over to Cardiff. 

Harkness had informed him of a main entrance he could Apparate to where he would be met by the Welshman, Jones, and that had only solidified the man as a butler in Harry’s mind. He arrived in an alley a block down from the shop Harkness had shown him. He walked the short distance and rang the bell, looking at the spinning rack of postcards standing next to the counter. A minute later Jones appeared from a corridor behind the counter and stared at him. “May I help you?”

“Yeah, we’ve had another murder. Have you been able to detect anything with your… program?” Despite Hermione’s constant prodding, Harry hadn’t used Muggle technology much since before Hogwarts, with the exception of the telly he barely had time to watch, and the advanced equipment he’d witnessed the first time he’d come had somewhat baffled him. 

“I don’t think so. You can ask Jack, though, if you like. He’s in his office.” The blank stare continued and Harry felt a bit agitated. 

“And that would be where? This is only the second time I’ve been here and the last time I didn’t exactly get the executive tour, did I?”

“No. Follow me, if you please.” Though he was exceedingly polite about it, Harry still got the impression that he was being insulted. Reluctantly, he followed the man through a short corridor and into a lift. They didn’t speak on the way down, and Harry looked at his feet to avoid eye contact, feeling awkward and out of place. When the lift doors opened, they were followed by the sound of an alarm and a giant vault door opening. Jones stepped through and walked briskly down a metal gangplank. Harry recognized his surroundings at once, and followed the Welshman through the intricate series of metal planks to a set of industrial stairs. He pointed at a room of glass windows with a strange T etched over it and Harry was surprised to see the Captain leaning against the railing next to the room, right where Harry had first seen him.

“Hello, stranger. What brings such an attractive young man into my compound this afternoon?” There was another winning smile and Harry felt his heart stop. All thoughts of Severus’s heated kiss left his mind and he grinned back. 

“Hi. I was hoping you’d have some news for me. I’ve had another murder just south of Birmingham and I was hoping your machines might have caught the activity from last night. Maybe a traveler from the future?”

“No, nothing yet, but I just got the program up and running this morning. Who’s the vic this time? Anyone I would know?”

“No, I doubt it. His name is Aidan Kiely. He’s a professional athlete in my world, but there’s no reason for you to know his name.”

“How’d he die?” Gwen asked, popping up from behind a massive computer terminal. The very thought of understanding what was going on with all those screens made him nauseous. 

“The ME thinks his blood was banished… er, sort of completely removed and dissolved into nothing. It was pretty gruesome. And he was taken from the future, so the bloke was actually there to help identify his own body.” He scrunched his nose up in disgust. “Not pleasant.”

“That’s awful. What was his reaction?”

“He was pretty calm about it, but he wasn’t happy, obviously. The body can’t be more than twenty years older than he is, so he’s a bit distraught at not having long to live.”

“Twenty years is a long time.”

“Not when the average lifespan of your population is 150 to 200 years and you’re only thirty-five.”

“The average lifespan of a…magical person is 150 to 200 years?” Gwen asked, obviously surprised. Harkness looked completely nonplussed by this statement.

“It’s the um… magic.” And he felt like a fool. He could feel the warmth of a mild blush and tried to shake it off. “We have loads of magical cures for illness and injury that Muggles don’t.” Her eyes lit up and he had to quickly cut off the line of thinking he knew she was beginning. “I know what you’re thinking, but they can’t use them for Muggles. They usually don’t work on non-magical beings and if they do, there are loads of nasty side-effects that usually cause more problems than they fix.”

“So you can expect to live for 200 years, then?” Harkness asked and Harry gave him a smirk. 

“If all goes well, yes.” 

“Interesting.” His eyes lit up for some reason that didn’t appear to be sexual. “It’s good that you’ve come, actually. I wanted to talk to you about something and I don’t think that owl you gave us likes us much.”

“Myfanwy wants to eat him,” Jones said, making Harry jump as he hadn’t realized the man was standing directly behind him. He felt inferior somehow, looking up at the taller man, though he suspected he might be a year or two older than him. 

“Who’s Myfanwy?” Just then there was a loud screech from high above and Harry looked up to see a… was that a pterodactyl? “Bloody hell.” 

“That’s Myfanwy.”

Harry stared for a minute longer, watching the gigantic animal glide around the ceiling, cawing and peering down at them. It was beautiful, rust-colored and astonishingly graceful. “Well, don’t let him eat the owl. Mobiles don’t mix well with magic and you can’t use one of my coins. It’s our only way to communicate.”

“We’ve kept him in his cage in my office. Myfanwy can’t fit in the doorway, but she’s been perching on the banister just outside watching it.”

“He should be safe enough, though it is good if you let him out every once in a while. Owls tend to get a bit tetchy if they aren’t allowed to stretch their wings often. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I was actually thinking about defense tactics against this serial killer of yours. You said he’s a magical person like you, right?”

“A wizard, yes.” 

“So he’ll know all the defenses against the magic you know?”

“From what I remember of seeing him in battle, he’s an excellent duelist, but I know I can handle him. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe it would be better if you went another route. If he’s as much against Muggles as you’ve told us he is, then he wouldn’t know much about things like guns, would he?”

“No, probably not. But I’ve never even shot a gun before. I don’t know anyone who has, actually, except my uncle, and I haven’t spoken to him in twelve years.”

“Well, then maybe it’s time you learned. If we’re going to use your services in the future, we’re going to need you alive.” He said the word ‘services’ in a way that wasn’t entirely wholesome and Harry found himself once again blushing. 

“Who would teach me?”

“I will.”

“You will.”

“When are you free? We have a range here and I might even let you use my gun.”

“I…” His mind went blank. Learning to use Muggle weapons had never even occurred to him. Did he want to learn how to shoot a gun? What would Hermione say if she found out? Nothing good, he imagined. And Malfoy would have a shit fit. But it _was_ an advantage over Dolohov, who probably had never even seen a gun. He made a quick decision. “Okay. How about tomorrow? If I get caught up with more casework I’ll owl you.”

“Perfect. I can’t wait.” The glint of his eyes caught Harry off guard for a moment, but he quickly recovered and checked the time with a _Tempus_ spell. 

_Fuck._ Malfoy was going to kill him if he didn’t show up at the office soon. “I have to go. I haven’t checked back with my supervisor since viewing the crime scene. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“I won’t be able to think about anything else all day.” Harry suppressed the feeling of arousal that flared up at his tone, nodded farewell to the others, and Apparated back to his office. He spent the afternoon filling out his report, sorting through evidence, and meeting with Draco. His superior had not been happy that it had taken so long for Harry to arrive to submit his report, but his anger quickly faded upon hearing the details of the murder. Harry had hesitated in telling him about his conversation with Harkness, but it was impossible to hide anything from Draco, who had been watching him for signs of weakness since they were eleven. 

“Muggle weapons? Really? And this Captain Harkness is willing to be alone with you, a relative stranger, with violent weapons? This man is either very stupid or very sure of his ability to handle you.” 

Harry thought of the ways in which he would like to be handled by Harkness and had to cross his legs to squelch his burgeoning erection. “He thinks it would be an advantage over Dolohov, since Dolohov dislikes Muggle technology more than you do. He likely won’t know how to shield against them, if he’s even ever seen one. He probably knows better than to underestimate me, but he would probably underestimate a gun.”

“True. Very well, then. It can’t hurt to have more defensive knowledge, even if it is Muggle.” Harry could see that it pained him to say so. “When do we find out the autopsy results?”

“Tom said he’ll be finished later this evening. Snape and I are going down to meet him around five.”

“Excellent. I’m sure he will find Severus to be correct. If only your Muggles would catch a glimpse of Dolohov, we could settle this before anything else happens. I would very much like this to be the last death in this case.”

“I would, too. Harkness says the program they’re using is up and running now, so if it’s reliable, we should find something soon.” 

“Fantastic. Let me know when you do. Now get out. I have work to do and I can’t do it looking at your ugly face.” Harry snorted and rolled his eyes at the comment, but got up all the same and went back to his office. 

It was late afternoon and he didn’t have much time before Snape was due to meet him. He went to his office and tried to work a bit more on his report, but soon found that he was too distracted with thoughts of guns and what he would learn to do the next day. Did he want to learn how to use a gun? It wasn’t much different than using the _Avada Kadavra_ spell, he supposed, but still. The aiming was different and it was so much easier to miss. What if he hit civilians? That wasn’t really possible with magic, unless the civilian in question were to jump in front of the curse, but that was rare, much rarer than accidents with guns. You didn’t have to mean it with a gun. 

There was a knock at the door, a sharp rap that could only be Snape. Harry called for him to enter, trying to shake away the morbid thoughts that had taken over his mind for the last hour or so. When the door opened and he came in, Harry smiled, feeling a little happier for having him there. “Hi.”

“Good evening. Shall we go and see the medical examiner now?” He looked uncomfortable again, stiff in the shoulders and mouth, and Harry wondered how much of that had to do with them being alone together, and how much resulted from the knowledge of their destination. Having spent two decades surrounded by death, he couldn’t imagine the prospect of going to see a dissected body was one Snape would relish. 

“If you like. No need to rush, though.” He stood anyway, knowing that there was no way he would be able to coax a conversation from Snape when he was in this sort of mood. 

“There is no reason not to go immediately.”

“There isn’t, is there?” Harry gave him a curious look and brushed a fingertip against the sleeve of his robes, hoping the gesture would be understood.

Snape stiffened, stepping back ostensibly to let Harry through the doorway. The message had clearly made it, but the reception was not good. Harry mentally cursed himself and led the way to the lift, trying not to be disappointed. He failed. 

Sooner than Harry would have liked, they were entering the morgue and approaching the front desk clerk. “Auror Potter and Severus Snape here to see the body of Aidan Kiely.” Harry flashed his badge and the clerk made a note in his visitor log before handing the quill over for both of them to sign. 

“Mr. Ainsworth is with the body now, down the corridor and to your left.” He pointed them in the right direction and returned to his book. Harry exchanged a glance with Severus and led the way down the freezing corridor. They stopped in front of a door on the left and Harry could see Tom standing over an examination table that held the body of Aidan Kiely. Harry tried to quell the nausea at seeing the corpse again and knocked before entering. 

“Evening, Tom. How does it look?”

Tom looked grim, shaking his head slightly. “It’s just as I thought. The blood was banished from his body, every single drop of it. Before that, though, he’d been put through at least two hours of _Cruciatus_ , just as you suspected. It’s an awful way to die.”

“Did he have the same magical signature on him as the other victims did?”

“Yes, unfortunately. It’s definitely our killer.”

“Fantastic. What about the age? Were you able to make a calculation?” 

“I was. The age determination spell put Mr. Kiely’s body at seventy-eight, much older than we originally thought.”

“Well, that’s good at least, I guess. Mr. Kiely should be happy to know he has a few more years than he originally thought.”

“An extra ten years is hardly a consolation prize for knowing the year of your death,” Severus said.

“Yeah, I know, but still. He’ll be able to see his kids get through Hogwarts, at least. Maybe even see his grandchildren. And you never know, we might find a way to prevent this whole thing from happening.”

“If we could find a way, it would have already happened and we would have no body. Mr. Kiely’s death is inevitable.”

“But so is everyone else’s really, if you think about it.” The response was a steady glare. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Right, well, thanks Tom. You’ve been a great help. If you could send me a copy of the autopsy report for the case file, I’d really appreciate it. Hopefully this will be our last time meeting for this case.”

“Hopefully. Have a good night, both of you.” They shook hands and left. Harry headed back to the lifts, Severus behind him.

“Are you coming up or am I dropping you off in the lobby?” he asked as they stood waiting for the lift to come. 

“I think it would be best if I went home.”

“You can stay, if you want. Maybe we could go to dinner again?” 

“I do not think that would be appropriate. I do not wish to have a repeat of our last dinner.” His eyes did not meet Harry’s.

“You didn’t like it?” He tried to mask the disappointment in his voice. 

“I liked it a bit too much, to be honest. I don’t think it would be a good idea to repeat it.”

“Because we’re working together?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s heart began to race. “What about after the case is solved? Would you like to repeat it then?”

“We will have to wait and see.” Just then the lift doors opened and Harry was disappointed to see three other people waiting inside. There would definitely be no repeat now. 

“Okay. I’ll see you later, then?” he asked, hopeful.

“Assuming your Muggles come through for us, then yes you will.”

“Good.” Harry flashed him a grin as the doors opened again for the lobby and Severus stepped out. They shook hands quickly, Harry wishing that he could kiss him, but knowing it wasn’t allowed. When the lift doors closed again, he took a deep breath and tried to focus back on his work. He had a briefing with Malfoy to get through, after all.


	4. Part IV

The next day found Harry nervously waiting at the Torchwood tourist shop, bouncing from foot to foot. He still wasn’t certain this was a very good idea, but he knew that the more prepared he was for battle, the better chance of his victory, so he waited. Five minutes after he rang the bell, the back door opened and Harkness walked out, grinning appreciatively at him. “Hello, Handsome. How are you this lovely morning?” 

Harry smiled back and wiped the sweat from his hand before shaking Harkness’s. “Hi. I’m good, a bit nervous, but you know. You all right?”

“Fantastic, now that you’re here. Shall we?” Harkness moved aside to let him past and he walked cautiously down the corridor and into the lift. Soon they were inside Torchwood and Harry was being led down yet another corridor, similar in structure to the one that had led to the conference room. He followed nervously behind the Captain, his fingers twitching and the blood racing through his veins. This was it. He was going to hold a gun for the first time. He watched Harkness’s back as they walked, watched the slide of starched cotton against the muscles he could see beneath. He was so distracted by what he was watching that he hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings until Harkness stopped and turned to look at him expectantly. Harry blinked and looked around. They were standing in an old Tube tunnel. There was a line of booths reminiscent of what Harry remembered a shooting range would have, and propped up opposite were a group of paper targets, creatures Harry had never seen before. 

“What are they supposed to be?” he asked, trying not to look at the table piled with guns and ammunition. He was still too nervous to think of them.

“Weevils. Vicious creatures; they’d sooner tear out your throat as look at you. They slip through the Rift most often, so we spend a lot of time hunting them. They make good targets.” The grin that accompanied this information melted Harry’s insides a bit. He was still tense, but the tension shifted a bit and he felt more comfortable for it. He returned the smile and finally turned to the gun table. Harkness handed him a pair of large, blue earphones and a pair of yellow glasses that reminded him of the glasses Seamus used when he did his carpentry work. Harry had only been in the workroom twice, but he hadn’t liked the idea of the glasses. They were large and awkward, and the earpieces hurt the tops of his ears. He took both solemnly and put them on, feeling silly and a bit uncomfortable. Harkness put a pair of his own on, but he didn’t look silly or uncomfortable. He smirked slyly at Harry and looked him up and down. “It’s a good look on you.” Harry made a face and turned away to the table.

“I have no idea where to start,” he said, overwhelmed. 

“We’ll start small. Try this one.” He took one of the more modern looking guns from the table and a loaded magazine (Harry had to pause in his head before he could remember what the device was called.), held both high for Harry to see, then demonstrated loading the magazine into the gun clearly and slowly enough for Harry to understand. “Have you ever seen a gun in person before?” 

“I’ve seen yours, the one you had on Severus.” 

“Ah, well, maybe I’ll let you shoot that one later, if you’re really good.” He winked and Harry couldn’t help but blush just a bit. _Fuck_ , he felt like a virgin when he was around this man. 

“I’ll do my best, Captain.” He walked cautiously closer, eyes on the gun. He began to go over all the shielding spells he knew, wondering which would be powerful enough to stop a bullet, whether he would need to layer them, if he could do that quickly enough to be effective. He doubted it. 

“Jack, call me Jack.” Jack looked him in the eyes, holding his gaze for long enough to impart his sincerity. Harry nodded, swallowing.

“Jack, then. And I guess you can call me Harry.”

“I’d be honored to, Harry.” His gaze turned warm, affectionate, but only for a moment and then he was back to business. He held the gun sideways at eye level. “This is a semi-automatic. I showed you how to load it, and I assume you know where the bullets come out?” He looked only slightly unsure of this. Harry nodded, eyes on the weapon. “Good. You hold it like this.” He took Harry’s right hand and wrapped it around the handle tightly, showing him how to adjust his hand so that he had the best grip and could easily pull the trigger, though the safety was still on. “Good. Now come and stand in front of me. Plant your feet shoulder-width apart.” Harry followed his instructions, trying not to get distracted by the closeness of the other’s body to his. “Back straight, arms at your side to start.” His hands moved to straighten Harry’s shoulders, correcting his posture with one hand while the other steadied his hip. “Now you’re going to slowly lift your arm to eye level.”

“Sideways?”

“Yes, it’s easier to look down the line of your arm when you stand this way, so you aim better.” Harry wasn’t about to argue. He lifted his arm to eye level, but it was quickly pulled back to his side. “Slowly. You don’t want to hurry this; you’re more likely to make a mistake. Just try to relax and breathe deep. Good, deep breaths.” Harry inhaled and felt his muscles relax just a bit. He tried again, more slowly this time, and looked down his arm. “Good, now focus on a target. Draw a line from your shoulder, down your arm, and to the target. Concentrate on that line. Reach up with your left hand and release the safety.” He showed Harry how to do it, pulling the mechanism down. Harry could sense the change in the gun, could almost feel it buzzing with energy beneath his fingers. He took another breath, and then another, waited for the go-ahead. “Okay, good. Are you looking down that line?” Harry murmured a confirmation. “Okay, now slowly squeeze the trigger…” 

Even through the muffling earphones, the crack was fantastic, much louder than that of Apparition. He would never describe the sound as a gunshot again. The gun had knocked back in his hand, but the force hadn’t been as harsh as he had expected. He looked from the gun to the target with the picture of the hideous creature on it. There was a small hole torn in the side of the target, just inside the bull’s-eye. “Wow,” was all he could say, stunned. He felt energized, exhilarated, the adrenaline pumping through him in fast bursts. It was like being on the battlefield, only he wasn’t afraid that he would die down here. 

“Amazing, isn’t it? Try again.” Harry did, again and again. Each shot came closer and closer to the center until he’d blown a wide hole clear through the paper. He grinned at Jack, excited. There was a ringing in his ears that wasn’t exactly pleasant, but the tingle running across his skin made up for it. 

“That’s amazing. Can I try another one?”

“Of course.” Jack took the weapon away, resetting the safety lock and taking out the magazine before setting both on the table and picking up a heavier gun, black again. The muzzle was thicker and it felt much more powerful. “This you’ll need two hands for. Stand facing the target. Hold the handle with your right hand, and clasp the bottom with your left, like this.” He moved Harry’s hands in place, his fingers warm and lingering on his. Their eyes met for a brief moment and Harry’s heart sped up. He moved behind Harry, nudging his legs further apart and straightening his shoulders again. He pressed into Harry’s backside, one hand holding Harry close around the stomach. “Take a deep breath. Release the safety. Take another breath. Good. Go ahead.” He pulled the trigger and this time both the sound and the recoil were much bigger. Harry almost staggered, not prepared for the force of the gun, but Jack held him steady. “Knock-out, isn’t it? Try again.” Harry did, and it was easier once he expected the kick-back. He grinned and shot again, hitting inside the target this time, and shot again and again until the magazine was empty and his heart was pounding in his chest. He turned his head to grin at Jack, unable to hold back his excitement. This was fun!

“Like it?” Jack asked, grinning himself, his voice raspy and deeper than before. 

“It’s amazing! I was so nervous, but this is fun! Can I try another?” 

Jack laughed and squeezed Harry’s middle, pulling him close. Harry could feel the beginnings of an erection pushing into his arse and it sent his pounding heart nearly out of his chest. Jack took the gun in his hand, set it down, handed Harry another. Harry shot five other weapons, aim getting better the more he shot. The mood turned playful, exciting. They teased and flirted and there was much more touching than was strictly necessary, but Harry didn’t mind. He was having more fun than he’d had in a long time. 

A while later, how much time had passed Harry didn’t know, he set the gun he’d been using on the table and pulled down his earphones. “What about your gun? Can I shoot that one?”

“You want to use my gun?” Jack asked, slinking closer, and the tone of his voice went straight to Harry’s groin.

“I do,” Harry replied, voice catching. _Fuck, I’m hard,_ he thought, enjoying the heat of Jack’s body pressed into his.

“Are you sure you can handle it? It’s pretty impressive. It might be too much for you.” The tone of his voice gave Harry the impression that they weren’t talking about weapons anymore. Harry’s breath began to come a bit faster.

“I can handle it.” Hands reached up and framed his face, large and rough against his cheeks, and suddenly Jack’s face was much closer. 

“You’re sure?” he asked, sounding steadier than Harry felt.

“Absolutely.” He lifted up on his toes and lips were pressed against his. A hot tongue prodded his lips and he opened to the intrusion, groaning. Jack’s mouth was all smooth heat and his tongue massaged Harry’s in ways he’d never felt before. If he hadn’t been on his toes, they would have been curling. He clung to the fabric at Jack’s waist, melting into him, barely able to stand. The hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer. The tongue probed deeper, demanded more. Harry felt he was being devoured and he reveled in it. His hands found their way to Jack’s trouser-clad erection and he began to squeeze, unable to help himself. He wanted to touch, taste, suck every inch of skin he could reach. 

Jack groaned into his mouth, pulled the robes from his body, tugged at his t-shirt. His fingers worked at the buttons of Jack’s shirt, tugging it further out of the trousers as each button was released from its hole. Soon they were both shirtless and pressed chest-to-chest, hot skin sliding against hot skin. The feel of Jack’s skin was intoxicating. Harry wanted to crawl inside his chest and revel in him. He pulled his mouth from Jack’s, trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, sucked in each small, brown nipple. He felt hands tugging at his belt, unzipping his trousers and shoving them and the pants underneath down to the floor. He stumbled out of them, frantically kicking out of his shoes, and almost tripped in the process. Jack laughed in his ear and held him steady.

“Relax, Harry. Let me help.” He slid down to his knees in front of Harry, looking up into his face as he pressed kisses to Harry’s flat stomach. His hands moved to Harry’s shoelaces, untied each slowly and calmly. His lips trailed down the line of black hairs leading to Harry’s groin, sucking the smooth skin so hard he left faint bruises in his wake. He gently removed each shoe, bracing Harry as he lifted each foot up in turn. His eyes never left Harry’s, even once he’d completely stripped him and had turned his focus to Harry’s erection, straining for his touch. He licked a stripe up the underside, eyes glowing with smug satisfaction at the loud moan Harry let out. He kissed the tip, swirled his tongue around it, before plunging down. Harry would never win a size contest, but even so, he’d never had anyone deep-throat him before now and he nearly lost his balance again at the feel of Jack’s throat constricting around the head of his cock. He reached unsteadily behind him and grabbed a hold of the table. Jack slowly pulled away, tongue flickering against his shaft before teasing the tip. There was a pause in which Jack examined him, free hand massaging his inner thigh as he traced the veins up Harry’s cock with his eyes. He grinned and swallowed it down again to the hilt, causing Harry to shout in surprise. 

The table proved too flimsy to hold his weight and it slid out from under him when he leaned too far. He toppled to the hard concrete, nearly cracking his head, but Jack’s hand was there first. There was a pause while both assessed Harry’s injury level. Their eyes met and both started to laugh. “You all right?” Jack asked, leaning over him with one knee wedged between his naked thighs. 

Harry nodded, pressing his face into the crook of Jack’s neck to help curb his hilarity. He’d have a bruise along his spine tomorrow, he knew, but overall he was fine, and there was _no way_ they were stopping now. He mouthed at the clavicle under his lips, nipping softly at it, to prove he was uninjured. Jack groaned again and captured his lips, pressing him into the floor before slithering down to swallow him whole again. Harry bucked his hips and let out a small cry, enjoying the wet warmth surrounding him. He soon grew restless, though, and shifted around so that he had access to Jack’s erection as well. He made quick work of the trousers, shoving both them and the pants down, but stopped there to stare. Harry might not have won any size contests, but Jack certainly could. He’d never seen a cock that big in person, and certainly never been in the position of sucking one off. 

“Fuck…” he gasped, cradling the muscles between trembling hands. There was a nip at his foreskin and a short laugh.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Feel free to worship it.” Harry grinned back at him, took a swipe at the head with his tongue, grinned wider at the loud groan that brought from Jack. He licked again, swirling his tongue around the head before experimentally wrapping his lips around it. It took a bit of effort, but he managed, wrapping both hands around the shaft and murmuring a lubrication charm to smooth things. He heard another groan around his own cock and shivered at the vibrations against his pulsing skin. He did his best to swallow as much of the cock down as he could, but it proved too wide for his narrow lips and the best he could do was a very wet hand-job with a wandering tongue. Jack didn’t seem to mind as he thrust his hips into the movements and sucked Harry so hard he almost came. 

Just at the point when he began to shake and could feel it coming, Jack pulled off, nudged him away and onto his back again. He pushed Harry’s legs up to his shoulders, indicated for him to hold them in place, and dropped his face down to lick at Harry’s entrance. Harry keened, arching his back and shoving his arse into the probing tongue. “Fuck!” he cried, squeezing his eyes shut. The tongue swirled around his entrance before his whole mouth encircled it and sucked, hard. He felt himself trembling, and was convinced that this time he really would come, but Jack pulled away again before he could. 

“Can you do that thing you did again? I don’t have any lube.” 

Harry nodded, still shaky, scrambling for his wand. He was too wound up at this point to concentrate enough for wandless spells. He found his wand in his trouser pocket and quickly did the spell on the both of them before dropping it to the side and moving back into position. Jack grinned down at him, probing his arse with gentle fingers. “That is so fucking hot. Do you have any idea what you look like right now?”

Harry smiled faintly, sweat dripping down his forehead from the strain of holding back his orgasm. He wanted to come with Jack inside him, but knew there was still a bit of preparation left before that was possible. “Like someone who wants to be fucked?”

“Fuck yes.” They shared another grin and Jack slid a third finger in, probing gently to make sure he didn’t hurt. When the muscles relaxed again, he tried a fourth, but Harry could tell it was tight. He pushed his hips back against the fingers, trying to help the process along. He really wanted to be fucked, and soon. It had been at least six months, and the sexual tension he’d been feeling lately was just too much for him to handle without an orgasm or three. 

Soon the fingers were pulled out and Harry found his face an inch from Jack’s, clear blue eyes staring into his. He strained his neck, kissed him, wrapped his whole body around him. There was pain at the initial entrance; Jack’s cock was much larger than any that had ever been inside him and the charmed vibrator he’d been using wasn’t anywhere near this big, but the pain went away soon enough and the sparks of pleasure began shooting up and down his body like firecrackers. It only took a few thrusts for him to come, but he was too turned on to fall flat afterwards. Jack thrust hard into him, kissing and licking his neck, pressing him again into the cement flooring. Harry called out, shaking with lust, and thrust back as hard as he could. He tightened his legs around Jack’s sides, pushed the thrusting hips closer with the heels of his feet. 

It went on this way for long moments, the room filled with grunts and groans and names echoing through the large chamber. After a while, Harry was too lost in the fucking to think, and all he could do was hold on. His nails dug into Jack’s back, deep enough to break the skin. Jack growled against his neck and wrapped arms around him, lifting him off the ground. “Hold on,” he panted into Harry’s ear as he sat up, and then stood, bringing Harry with him. He moved to one of the shooting booths, deposited Harry on the acrylic edge, and continued thrusting. The narrow ledge dug into his arse, hurt, and so he vanished it without thinking and dropped down the two inches to the solid shelf below it. Jack leant over him, kissing him hard, more devouring than anything. They both groaned and continued their movements. The new angle gave Jack deeper access, causing high spikes of pleasure up Harry’s spine. He cried out, clinging to the edge of the shelf, jerking through another orgasm. 

When it was over, he wrapped shaking arms around Jack’s shoulders, leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. He felt Jack begin to tense against him and three thrusts later, he felt the hot squirts of come fill his arse. Harry grinned against the nub in his mouth, nipped at it and licked soothingly, waiting out the orgasm. Soon Jack was lifting his face up, kissing him again, and Harry was completely consumed by him. 

*

“I see that Mr. Malfoy has foolishly given you leave to carry Muggle weaponry now. I can only hope that you have been properly trained to use it.” Harry looked up from his desk and the unloaded 1911 sitting atop it that Jack had given him ‘just in case’. He’d been unable to stop staring at it for the last half an hour, though his mind had been a world away from the weapon itself. He had instead been contemplating the guilt that had begun to surface ever since he’d returned to London from his time with Jack. He had the unnerving feeling that he had possibly betrayed Severus. But no, that wasn’t possible, because there was only a snowball’s chance in Hell that Severus would ever allow himself to want Harry enough to actually take him. Harry could not wait forever, not with all the sexual tension he had been subjected to in the last few weeks. He had felt as though he were stuffed in a canon, waiting agonizingly to be shot into the air. Jack had finally lit that fuse and he felt exhilarated for it.

Looking up at Severus now, he felt a bit disoriented, out of focus, but he was able to snap out of it fairly quickly. “Jack taught me the other day. It’s really quite fun when you get the hang of it.”

“And why did he feel the need to teach you this?”

“Added self-defense. Dolohov’s not likely to know how one of these works or how to defend against it, if he’s even ever heard of one at all.”

“Interesting theory.” 

Not knowing what to say in response, Harry’s eyes dropped back to the gun and he slowly traced the TORCHWOOD insignia etched along the barrel. He looked back up at Severus to find his eyes tracing the movements of his hand. “What brings you in today? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but nothing new has come up yet, that I know of.”

“I noticed a pattern with the victims that I thought you might be interested to hear.”

“Oh?”

“Have you noticed that the victims chosen from the past were all famous in the Muggle world, though they were wizards, while the victims from the future were all famous in the Wizarding world, though they were Muggle-borns? If this is in fact his pattern, it might be beneficial for our investigation to focus on famous wizards who are still alive, for the time being.”

Harry sat up and smiled, excited by the idea. “That’s brilliant, Severus! Why didn’t I see that before? I’ll have to owl Jack and tell him to focus his detection program on the future. And really, they only have to look within the next two hundred years or so. Dolohov isn’t likely to choose people we’ve never heard of, is he? What would be the point, right?” 

Severus raised an eyebrow. “It’s Jack now, is it?”

Harry paused, uncertain of how much he should say. He still felt a sliver of guilt for what had happened, but he tried not to let that show on his face. “We had a nice time together. We became…well-acquainted.”

Those black eyes narrowed to slits and Severus closed the office door, stepping closer to the desk. “How well-acquainted?”

“What does it matter? It isn’t as though you’re offering! You’ve rejected me every time I tried! Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?” He had to take a deep breath to stop himself from shouting. The last thing he needed was to feed the office rumor mill. Severus looked incensed, and his anger helped Harry to regain his control. “Look, you’ve already told me that you won’t have anything to do with me romantically until after this investigation is over. Neither of us can predict when exactly that will be, so for the time being, you have no claim to me. If I could change that, I would, but you made that decision, not me. I won’t apologize for taking the opportunity that was handed to me. I enjoyed my time with Jack, but I very much doubt it will become a serious thing, if it even happens again at all.”

For a minute, it looked as though Severus might explode at him, but he watched as Severus wrangled his emotions back under his steady, impenetrable mask. He nodded solemnly. “Fine. As you said, it isn’t any of my business. Unless you have anything else to tell me about the case, I will take my leave.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Harry tried feebly, but Severus had already turned and swept out of the door, closing it behind him. Harry sighed to himself and looked back down at the gun for a moment before pushing it aside and taking up pen and quill to owl Jack. There wasn’t anything he could do about Severus at the moment. He would have to let him cool off for a while and then try talking to him again.

*

The new tactic worked faster than Harry expected. He received a return owl the next afternoon with a hit. There was a spike of activity connected to the fragment of Dolohov’s wand from 2035 London. Harry immediately jumped into action, sending a Patronus to Severus while speeding towards Malfoy’s office to let him know. A short time later, he was meeting Severus at the Torchwood shop, and Jack was leaning against the counter, a shit-eating grin on his face. “It worked!”

Harry grinned back, nerves buzzing with excitement. “What happened? Your note said 2035 London, but do you have anything more specific? Any sort of time approximation? General location in London?”

“Yes, come inside and I’ll show you. We don’t have much time, though, so let’s hurry.” All three hurried down the corridor to the lift. The hub was abuzz with activity when they reached it. Gwen was running from station to station, checking something; alarms were going off everywhere, and Jones was nowhere in sight. “What’s the status, Gwen?”

“He’s still there, but you should hurry. It looks like he’s using the wand, and I doubt that’s good.”

Harry had the Sands of Time out and was fiddling with the dials before she’d finished speaking. “When, exactly?”

“Twenty-ninth of June 2035,” she answered quickly, eyes glued to the screen.

“Where exactly? Do you have a map of the location?” Severus asked, too worked-up himself to be as disgruntled towards Jack as Harry had expected. Jack pointed to the computer station Gwen stood at and Severus hurried over. “He’s at the Ministry, Potter. He could be after the Minister.”

Just then, Jones popped in from a doorway, a large case in his hands.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, glancing up from the dials he’d been fiddling with. 

“Ammunition, did you bring the gun I gave you?” Jack answered. Jones was giving him a stare that probably would have been a glare if he were less stiff in the shoulders about it. Harry ignored him and focused on the case he’d deposited in front of him. 

“Yes, but I wasn’t planning on using it unless we got in trouble. He’s a good duelist, but Severus and I are better.”

“I’d feel more comfortable if you were as prepared as possible.”

“Fine, put whatever you think is necessary in my pocket.” He indicated the inside pocket of his Auror robes and turned his attention back to the Sands of Time. “Severus, can you come and make sure I have this set right? Do you remember what he said about setting the year separate from the month and day?” Severus was by his side in a minute, muttering to himself about idiots and inferior listening skills as he took the device from Harry and adjusted the dials. Harry watched him, glancing down when he felt hands in his robes to find Jack shoving magazines and another 1911 into the bottomless pocket. Once Severus was satisfied that their device was set properly and Harry had more ammunition shoved into his robes than he would probably ever use in his life, they were ready to head out. 

“Is he still there?” Severus asked, looking back to the station where Gwen stood, watching the program.

“Yes, it looks like there’s a lot of activity with the wand-thing he’s using. You’d better hurry.”

“Right, we’ll see you when we get back, hopefully with our murderer.” Harry smiled nervously at Jack and turned to Severus, stepping closer to grab hold of the other side of the Sands of Time. Severus unclasped the hourglass and began to turn it. 

The world began to spin as before, but the spinning was longer, and Harry had to hold tightly to Severus’s arm in order not to lose his breakfast. He felt an arm go around him, and Severus pulled him in closer and Harry nudged his face into Severus’s shoulder to try to ground himself. This trip was much longer than the first had been, and Harry thought he would lose his mind before everything finally stopped. They both took a deep breath before disengaging and looking about them. The hub was still buzzing with activity, but there were strangers running about. Strangers, except for Jack, leaning against the railing he always seemed to be at, smiling warmly down at them, completely un-aged despite the passing of years. “Hello, Harry, Severus. Here to stop the killer?”

The others turned to stare at them, confused. There were at least three, and Harry froze upon further looking at them. He was there, older and with grey streaked in his hair. He felt disoriented, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. They would ask questions when they came back. “Hi, Jack. We’ll come back once we have everything sorted. I think we need to have a talk.”

“Looking forward to it.” Jack still had the same grin and it made Harry shiver momentarily. He looked up at Severus, shared a nod, and they Apparated to the Ministry. Severus took a device out of his pocket when they reached the lobby and consulted it. 

“What’s that?” Harry asked, leaning over his arm to see.

“The Welshwoman gave it to me. It tracks the activity of Dolohov’s wand in the same way that her computer program does. This way we know where to look in the building.”

“Is he with the Minister?”

Severus shook his head, looking slightly confused. “No, it looks as if he is in the Auror department… He cannot be after you, as you seem to have taken up permanent residence with the Muggles.”

Harry brushed the comment off. “Right, well, we better hurry. We don’t know what’s going on up there.” With that, he darted off to the lifts, shouting at those in the queues that he was on official Auror business. There was some grumbling, but he managed to reach an available lift, held it long enough for Severus to reach him, and yelled at the lift controller to make a direct trip to the second floor¬—no stops! 

When the doors opened, he ran to the Auror office and looked around, not seeing any sign of Dolohov. The Aurors all stared at him, confused for a moment, and one or two began to get up and walk over as though to question his presence. He ignored them and rushed to Malfoy’s office, hoping that he was wrong, and also that Malfoy was still Head Auror. He burst through the office door and immediately tried to disarm Dolohov, who was hovering over a crouched and screaming Draco. Harry’s spell threw Dolohov off, but not enough to end the spell. He whipped around and flung a hex, but Harry dodged out of the way and flung one back. Soon they were engaged in a fierce duel, spell fire flying everywhere. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Severus tending to Draco, quickly murmuring healing spells while keeping an eye on the action. 

Soon it was two, then three against one, but Dolohov was good and he wasn’t about to give up without a fight. The room was alight with spell fire and it looked as though Malfoy’s desk was on _real_ fire, and Harry was getting impatient to get this done. He took the gun from his pocket. He had hoped not to have to use it, but if he could wound their assailant, they might be able to finally bring him down. He deflected an Entrail-Entangling curse, and when Dolohov turned to dodge a curse from Draco, he quickly aimed and shot. 

The sound was louder than he expected, not wearing the protective earphones he’d worn during practice. Dolohov cringed back, stared at Harry, put a hand over his wounded shoulder. In the time it took him to recover, Draco had tackled him with a Body-Bind and Severus was snatching his wand away. They had him bound and completely immobilized within moments and all three stood in silence for a moment, catching their breath. The flames engulfing Malfoy’s desk were quickly extinguished, but the spell damage was going to take days to clean up, Harry knew. 

“Bloody Hell, I’d forgotten that was going to happen. Thanks, Harry. I’d have been done for if it weren’t for you. Not that I didn’t know you would stop him, but still. I owe you one.” Draco patted Harry on the back, grinning in a way that Harry hadn’t seen him do since before he’d made Head Auror. Harry smiled back, pulled him into a one-armed hug in his enthusiasm to have finally taken his murderer down. Draco turned to Severus, his grin changing, warming into a happy smile. “I have you to thank as well, Severus. I know you’re still cross with me for what I said about Harry, but you’ll get over it shortly, and we’re good friends now, so I’m giving you a hug even if you won’t enjoy it. Understood?” He had his arms wrapped around Severus’s neck and had pulled him into a tight hug before the man could respond, but Harry thought the slight tint to the sallow cheeks might have been embarrassment rather than the exertion Harry knew he would claim it to be. 

“All right, now I need a bit of an explanation. Why did we just see me working at Torchwood? Am I still an Auror in the future?”

Draco hesitated while pulling away from Severus, eyeing Harry warily. “I can’t tell you that. I don’t want to influence anything you do in the past. You know that, Potter.”

Harry nodded, disappointed all the same. He knew that it was illegal to inform those from the past about the future, but he still would have liked to know. “Right. We should get back, then, before we find out anything we aren’t supposed to by accident. Thanks for helping us, Draco. I’m really relieved we made it to you in time.” He smiled and squeezed Draco’s arm before turning to the body and setting it to levitating. He then thought better of it and turned to Severus. “We might as well just go back here. You still have the Sands of Time, right?” It occurred to him that he hadn’t paid much attention to the device once they’d left Torchwood. Everything had moved so quickly, as it often did when he was on a mission, and he’d lost track of the thing. But of course, Dolohov would have one on his person, wouldn’t he, if they’d lost it?

Thankfully, he didn’t need to find out just yet as Severus pulled their Sands of Time out of an inside pocket and showed it to him. “Unlike those who prefer to rush into danger without thought or pause, some of us like to keep our heads about us and remember what is important. Such as the only device available to get us home.”

Harry was too excited to mind the sharp words. He grinned and sidled up to Severus, directing his captive to them and hooking a hand in his hair to make sure he came with them. “Do you think it’ll be better or worse this time, now that we know what to expect?”

“I did not find the previous journey to be unpleasant.” Severus began to set the dials again, carefully moving them into place. Harry watched his hands, anticipating them being on him, now that their work together was finished. His heart was still racing from the fight and he could feel the adrenaline pumping through him. Draco was watching them, something odd in his look that was almost… triumphant? _Odd_. Before he could really think about it, Severus was giving him the signal to grab onto the Sands of Time and they were off. 

Harry couldn’t cling to Severus this time, but he felt Severus pull him in close so that he could still bury his face in Severus’s neck to try and quell the nausea. How Severus could take this travel without any sign of distress was beyond Harry. He tried to block out everything around him, focus entirely on the pleasant slide of skin beneath his nose and the thought that his case was practically solved. They’d caught Dolohov at it, and it would take little to find the evidence of his previous murders from his wand. 

The trip felt shorter the second time, possibly because Harry had managed to distract himself, and he felt less like he was going to be sick and more like he wanted to shout in joy when the world finally stopped and they were once again standing in Draco’s office. Instead of shouting, he let go of Dolohov’s hair and wrapped both arms around Severus’s neck, pulling him into a very enthusiastic and possibly overly moist kiss. Severus made a muffled noise of shock, but quickly returned the kiss, pulling Harry in closer and wrapping the arm holding the Sands of Time around him as well. Harry didn’t know how long they would have gone on, enthralled by the joy of a villain caught and relief at being alive and together, but they were soon interrupted by the sound of a voice clearing its throat. They pulled apart far enough to see Draco standing next to his desk, fingers drumming impatiently against the top. 

“Not that I’m not thrilled to have been proven correct about your attraction to one another, but would you mind possibly if you could refrain from fornicating in my office until after your prisoner has been processed? I assume this is the prisoner, as he resembles the Dolohov I remember, and I should hope that you wouldn’t Body-Bind and transport an innocent man across Time lines without reason.” He paused, thought about it, then shook his head. “Actually, you might do that, Potter, but I doubt that Severus would have allowed it to happen, so this must be our serial killer.”

“It is. Sorry, got caught up in the excitement. You should be grateful, though. We just saved your life,” Harry said, disentangling himself from Severus.

“And how did you do that?”

“You were his next target. We found you writhing on the floor under Cruciatus. I don’t know what else he’d tried. Severus?”

“I had to heal several deep incisions he’d made with a slashing hex. I believe he intended to fill them with poison once he finished torturing you so that you might die more painfully. Thankfully, we were able to get there to stop him before he accomplished that goal,” Severus answered, brushing his robes off. He handed Harry the Sands of Time. Harry turned it in his hands, unsure what to do with it. There were so many things to be done now—interrogation, examination of the prisoner’s effects, written reports to be completed. He’d have to speak with Torchwood and return the device to Agent Tiberon. 

Draco called a Junior Auror in and directed him to have Dolohov booked and processed and put into a holding cell for questioning. Nothing was mentioned about healing the gunshot wound in his shoulder. The young Auror levitated the body out, the door was shut, and Draco turned to the two of them. “Tell me what happened,” he said, leaning against his desk. A vision of the desk completely engulfed in flames flashed momentarily in Harry’s mind and he launched into the story.


	5. Part V

The process of case-building and prosecution was a mess, but it was dealt with fairly quickly, and within three weeks Dolohov had been sentenced to be Kissed. The trial had been a media circus and Harry had barely escaped without another Order of Merlin and an entire spread in the Daily Prophet. He was so tied up with work that he wasn’t able to return to Torchwood to explain the results of their assistance and to return their equipment to them until a week after the incident. Jones looked to be less than pleased to see him, though Harry wasn’t entirely sure why the man seemed to hate him, but he resisted asking and quietly followed him down into the hub. Jack was waiting at the door to greet him, smiling warmly, and he pulled him into a hug and a kiss as soon as he saw him. Harry blushed at the display.

“Good to see you again. How’d it go? We’ve been wondering if we were ever going to see your pretty face again.”

“It went really well. We caught him, thanks to your help. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for us. He was after the head of our department this time and I don’t know what would have happened if he’d succeeded. We owe Torchwood a huge debt of gratitude. I have your tracker thing. I don’t know how to use it, and I thought you might need it anyhow. And also your gun.” He began to pull things from a bottomless sack he’d brought with, but Jack stopped him.

“Later. Tell us what happened.” He directed Harry to a couch underneath a tiled Torchwood sign, and he and Gwen sat on either side of him. Jones stood to the side, arms crossed, clearly still cross about him being there. Harry took a deep breath and launched into the story, not leaving anything out, from the moment they entered 2035 to the moment Dolohov received his Kiss. He had to explain quite a bit more after that, as none of them knew anything about Dementors or Azkaban or what it meant to be given the Kiss. It was quite a bit later that he was able to ask about what he’d seen when he first arrived in 2035 Torchwood. 

“Do you know why I would have seen myself working here in the future? I know it was me because Malfoy—the older Malfoy—wasn’t confused when I asked him about it, but he’s bound by law not to tell me anything that might alter the Timeline.”

Jack glanced at Gwen, then Jones before turning his body so that he was facing Harry head-on. “Well, that might be because I was thinking about offering you a job with us. We’ve recently lost two team members and we’re spread a bit too thin at the moment. You don’t have the skills either of our lost members had, but you do have magic, and that’s something Torchwood has never had before. What do you think?”

Harry was stunned. That was not a thought that had ever entered his mind. But it made sense now that he thought about it. Torchwood had technology the Aurors would never be able to use, and Harry had magic, which they would never have. If he worked for Torchwood, he might be able to be a sort of liaison between the two worlds, helping them to help each other. But that would mean he would have to leave the Aurors. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that though. All he’d ever wanted to be, since McGonagall had first approached the subject of his future in the Wizarding world in fifth year, was an Auror. Could he give up that dream for Torchwood? He combed fingers through his hair, tugged at it a bit, scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to think. _I need to speak to Severus_. It was the only thought in his head, and it was the one that he said. 

Jack was obviously taken aback by this, but he seemed to come to comprehension quickly. “I hadn’t realized you two were…” He sounded confused, but Harry couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or not. 

Harry looked down at his hands, shrugging. “We aren’t, yet, but we’re working on it, and… I trust his judgment better than my own.”

“All right. Talk to Severus, then. The job is open for you if you decide you want it. And I have to say, if you’ve already seen yourself working here, I think that might say something for your decision already.” Oh, that smile. This was a man who could charm the trousers off of Voldemort. He’d certainly already charmed _Harry’s_ trousers off. But it wasn’t going to work this time. Yes, he had seen himself here, a part of the team, but he wasn’t going to make a decision without talking to Severus first. 

“Let me talk to Severus. And Malfoy. I think he’d kill me if I took another job without talking to him first.” _Fuck_ , Malfoy would kill him if he didn’t talk to him first. His eyes went a bit wide as he thought of it. Malfoy would have a veritable _fit_ if Harry didn’t run this by him first. 

If anything, Jack’s smile widened. “I’ve already spoken to Mr. Malfoy about you. What a hottie, by the way. You didn’t tell us your boss looked like a Greek god.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “His personality detracts from that, believe me.”

“So you’ve never tried to…with him?”

Harry burst into peals of laughter. “Hell no! I’d sooner have my bits bitten off by fire ants.”

“Really? Interesting.” The look on his face told Harry he was contemplating very kinky ways to incorporate fire ants in sexual play. Harry shuddered and glanced at Gwen, who smiled at him. She didn’t hate him without reason. His eyes flickered to Jones, who looked incredibly put-out with Jack and the entire situation. Not for the first time, Harry thought there might be more to the relationship between Jack and Jones than just work. 

“Well, why don’t you speak with Severus and your boss and see what they have to say? Jack forgets sometimes what life outside of Torchwood is like. This is a big decision. You shouldn’t make it without proper thought,” Gwen said, patting him on the arm. Harry smiled at her, glad that she understood. 

“I know. I was planning on going to visit Severus once I’d checked-in with you lot and returned the equipment. Maybe I should go and do that now.” He stood up, Jack and Gwen standing as well. “Everything’s in the sack. How about I just leave it here with you?” He indicated the knapsack he’d brought with him, and Jones took it from him. 

“Everything is in here?” he asked, eyeing the relatively small sack.

“Everything except the one bullet that went into Dolohov’s shoulder. Thanks for that, by the way. I don’t want to know how long that duel might have lasted without it.”

“No problem. We wouldn’t want a future member killed before he even had a chance to join the team, would we?” Jack slapped him on the back before pulling him into a one-armed hug and kissing his temple. “You think about our offer. And it better not take another week for you to come back this time.” He gave him a look before letting him go and Harry shook his head.

“I’ll try, can’t make any promises, though.” Gwen walked him out, chatting to him about the various cases she’d worked on since joining, why she stayed, why she thought Harry should stay. When the lift doors closed, Harry stopped her chatter with a hand on her wrist, wanting to ask what he couldn’t with Jones in the room. “Why does Jones hate me so much? I don’t remember doing anything to him.”

Gwen went wide-eyed for a moment. “You didn’t know? Well, of course you wouldn’t have known, would you, being a stranger before a month ago? Ianto and Jack have been in a relationship for over a year now. It’s open as far as I can tell, but Ianto still gets jealous when Jack wanders off with someone else. He’ll get over it eventually, don’t worry.”

So he’d been right, but still. “How does everyone seem to know what happened between Jack and me?”

Gwen blushed and looked away for a moment. This wasn’t going to be good. “We have cameras monitoring every part of Torchwood. I was just checking in to make sure everything was fine and you hadn’t tried to kill Jack or anything. I didn’t mean to see, but Ianto happened to be bringing me coffee at the time and, well…”

“Right. So everyone at Torchwood has now seen me naked, then?”

“Looks like it, yes. Don’t feel bad, though! My first assignment here, I accidentally let an alien out who fed off orgasmic energy, and I was seduced into snogging the girl it inhabited in one of the holding cells. They nearly had to pry me off her.”

“Really?” She nodded, smiling again. That made Harry feel a bit better, then. He smiled back. “Well, I won’t be doing anything else with Jack, I can promise. I really do want to make a go of it with Severus, and he can read my mind if he likes, so there’s no hiding anything from him.”

“Was it good, though? With Jack? I’ve always wanted to know. Ianto says it’s amazing, but he’s in love, so I don’t trust him.”

Harry blushed, but he was able to laugh at her enthusiastic questioning. “It was probably the best I’ve ever had. He’s quite…inventive.”

Gwen giggled, eyes alight with pleasure. “I thought he would be.” They spoke a few more minutes, once they reached the shop before saying their farewells, and Harry Apparated to Widdershins. 

The assistant, Algernon, was sitting at the counter, flipping through a potions catalogue, but he glanced up when Harry entered. He looked Harry up and down once before pointing a thumb to the back without saying a word. Harry nodded to him and walked around the counter and through the back curtain, silently throwing a locking and silencing charm at it as he passed through it. He didn’t know how effective they would be on a curtain, but he could hope it would afford them privacy. 

“I was wondering if you intended to come back or not,” Severus drawled, putting his stirring stick down and throwing a stasis charm over the cauldrons he was working over. Harry grinned and went directly to him, pulling him down for a kiss without even bothering to say hello. Severus grunted, but returned the kiss, pulling him close. Harry melted into him, warm and happy and feeling for once that he knew exactly where he wanted to be. 

“I’ve missed you. Sorry it took so long, but everything was a mess to organize and the trial was a complete madhouse. Did you see the Prophet?” he asked, pulling away only far enough to look up into Severus’s austere face.

“I did. You were made out to be quite the hero. Unsurprising.”

“I made sure they gave you the credit you deserve. I couldn’t have solved the case without you, of course. Or caught him. Thank you.” He pecked his lips again, or intended to, but it turned into a much longer, more pleasant kiss. Harry hummed in pleasure as they pulled away. “I take it you don’t have any qualms about giving this a go, now that you’re back to shop owner, then? Because if this is all a tease and you don’t intend to go through with it, I don’t know if I’d be able to restrain myself.”

“No, you’ve never been very good at that, have you?” Severus raised an eyebrow, lips going a bit thinner than normal, and Harry knew he needed to do something before a fight was started.

“That’s over with. I found out that Jack is actually in a relationship with Jones, the Welshman. I won’t be doing anything else with him again, I promise. I’m completely and utterly yours. That is, if you’ll have me.” His eyes dropped to the buttons at Severus’s neck, suddenly uncertain. What if Severus was just humoring him? But Severus would never bother to do that.

“He will never touch you again?”

“Not in that way, no. He did, er…He offered me a job with Torchwood.” Severus looked to be withdrawing into himself, so Harry hurried to continue before he lost him. “I told him I wouldn’t decide until I talked to you. I know that we saw me working there and all, but I still want your input before I make a decision. I don’t want to work there if it will jeopardize what we have.”

“We have very little at the moment.”

“But I want more! You know that. I want to be with you very much, Severus. I feel…warm when I’m with you, happy, like this is what I’m supposed to be doing. I can only hope that you feel the same way.” 

“I am not…discontent when I am with you.”

“Does that mean you want to be with me?”

“Yes. But not if you are going to go off fornicating with that American again.”

“Never! Once I’m yours, I’m yours full-stop.” Severus looked dubious at best. “If you don’t trust my word, then I won’t take the job.”

“That will not be necessary. I will endeavor to trust you.”

“Does that mean we’re giving this a go?”

“I will not use that ridiculous phrase, but yes, I am willing to enter into a relationship with you.”

Harry grinned and kissed him, a hard press of lips to lips. Severus’s lips were chapped and the rough brush of them against Harry’s sent a thrill running down his body. He made a small noise in the back of his throat and buried fingers in the long, black tresses. He tugged at Severus’s hair to pull him closer, knocking the leather thong that held the pony tail together out. Severus’s tongue scraped against his lips, and he opened them to a deeper kiss. Harry moaned low in his throat as his bottom lip was nibbled between crooked teeth and rubbed himself against Severus like a cat in heat. 

His fingertips trailed down to the buttons of Severus’s robes, began to open them, parting the fabric as he went. Severus’s lips broke from his, kissing and nipping a path to his ear. “If we are to take this any further, I suggest we find a bed. Algernon could walk back here at any moment.”

Harry grinned, flushed and glassy-eyed with arousal. “Isn’t that part of the thrill?”

Severus raised an eyebrow at him, and how the man could be so collected with Harry’s hand practically in his trousers was beyond Harry’s comprehension. “I had no idea you had an exhibitionistic streak. We shall have to explore it later, but for now I think a bed is in order.” His arms already wrapped around Harry’s waist, he Apparated them to the small flat he kept upstairs for the times when his brewing required overnight attention. Harry was too distracted by the mouth sucking on his throat to notice much about the cramped room but the full bed shoved into a corner. 

He turned all of his attention to stripping Severus of his clothing, a task that was much more involved than he thought acceptable. “You aren’t allowed to wear this many layers anymore. This is taking way too long,” he muttered in frustration as he tugged a bit too hard on Severus’s belt and nearly tore one of his belt loops off. 

Severus made a noncommittal noise, having already stripped Harry of all but his pants. His fingers teased along the elastic waistband, snapping it against Harry’s hip before slipping one hand inside to cup a buttock. Harry moaned and rubbed against him, his own hand finally delving into the depths of Severus’s trousers to find his erection. He swallowed up the groan that left Severus’s lips and sucked on his tongue as his hand traced the veins running up and down the shaft. 

Severus growled and tackled Harry to the bed, crouching over him to take his mouth while his hands made quick work of their last items of clothing. Harry smoothed hands over Severus’s back, fingertips tracing up his spine before burying themselves in his hair. The lips that had taken his mouth slid down his throat again and moved further south, to his nipples. “God,” Harry murmured, head falling back onto the mattress. He shut his eyes and just basked in the attention of Severus’s hot tongue mapping his skin. Now that they were naked, the hurry had left him and all he wanted to do was soak in his new lover. Severus had always been able to do wicked things with his tongue, but this was an entirely new category and Harry didn’t want to miss a second of it. 

Severus too was taking his time, licking and sucking across Harry’s chest, down his flat stomach. He buried his considerable nose in wiry black pubic hair and inhaled Harry’s scent. He mouthed the base of Harry’s penis, seeming to enjoy the small needy noises Harry was making above him. He licked a strip up the shaft and sucked just the head in between his lips, tongue dipping underneath his foreskin. He let go and mouthed down the other side, over the round globes beneath, just the perfect size to fit in his mouth. Harry’s hips bucked up to reach his questing mouth, but Severus ignored the gesture, continuing south to the soft, pink pucker he could not wait to taste. 

One swipe of his tongue and Harry was a writhing mess, fingers clenching at the thin sheet beneath them, head thrown back, mouth open wide in a silent scream. He canted his hips to match the probing, then thrusting of Severus’s tongue inside him. Severus held his movements at bay with one hand pressed into his hipbone, while the fingers of his other hand explored up and down a quivering thigh. Little sighs began to escape Harry’s lips. Severus took his time at his task, every movement aimed to elicit more of those soft sounds. 

When he had Harry completely relaxed and ready, he journeyed back up to that wanton mouth, still open and begging to be kissed. Harry moaned into his kiss, hands roaming over pale, scarred skin. A lubrication charm was performed and Severus’s erection was covered by a warm, slick hand as he found himself being pushed to sit up against the pillows, mouth still attached to Harry’s. Harry crouched over his lap, hand still stroking him. He guided the head of Severus’s cock to his entrance and sank down, a satisfied moan escaping into Severus’s mouth. They pulled away from the kiss for a moment, both panting, eyes locked. Harry smiled warmly and leant in once more to continue the kiss, hands clamping onto Severus’s shoulder for leverage. He began rocking, slowly at first, just getting used to the sensation. 

Severus trailed kisses down his throat to suck at his Adam’s apple, his hands clenched at Harry’s tight arse to help guide his movements. They found a nice rhythm, rocking together slowly. Harry buried his nose in the crook of Severus’s neck and shoulder, breathed him in. The feelings flooding through his body were overwhelming, a rush of warmth and contentment, a feeling of homecoming. He smiled into the pale skin beneath his nose and lost himself in Severus for a while.

*

Draco had been staring at him for a full minute without saying anything when Harry began to think he was Confunded. He prompted his supervisor with a hand wave, which earned him a glare. “I don’t know whether to be pleased to be rid of you or worried that I’m losing my best Auror. What did Severus say?”

“He isn’t happy that I’ll be working with Jack full-time, but I think he’ll get used to it.”

“Well, I suppose there isn’t anything more I could add to that. It is your decision, after all. Do you think you’ll be happy working for Muggles?”

“I enjoyed the little bit of work I’ve already done for them. I want to know more about what they do. I mean, aliens? Who wouldn’t want to know?”

The look Draco gave him clearly said that he couldn’t care less. “Do whatever makes you happy, Potter. As long as it also makes Severus happy, I am completely uninterested.”

Harry was not surprised, but Draco’s speech did give him an in to ask the question that had slowly been eating away at his brain. “Why is Severus no longer speaking to you? He won’t tell me what happened.”

Draco’s mask of indifference shuttered for a moment, threatening to slip, but he reined it back in just in time. “I might have been aware of his harboring a large infatuation for you. I might also have informed him that if he did not do something about said infatuation, that I would do it for him. He might have caused me bodily injury for such a suggestion.”

Harry could not help but balk at this passive admission. “Wait, you wanted Severus and I to be together?”

The blond sneered in return. “Certainly not. I wanted Severus to be happy, as I always do, and unfortunately, that happiness happened to coincide with his buggering you. The thought is completely disgusting to me, but I could no longer stand by and watch him moon over you like a love-sick cow. It was unbecoming and very unlike his nature.”

“Right. So, are you going to try and get him talking to you again, then?”

“Absolutely not. He can come to me when he wants. I certainly wasn’t in the wrong.”

Harry sighed and rubbed at his temples. They were both too stubborn for their own good. He would have to figure out a way to convince Severus to come around without it looking like that was what he was doing. “All right, fine, do whatever you want. I guess I’m giving my notice, then. Do you want me to wait two weeks? It would make more sense to leave now when all my casework is finished, than wait until I’m in the middle of an investigation.”

“Yes, yes, leave now. Go frolic with your extraterrestrials and your attractive American men.” Draco made a shooing motion and rolled his eyes, but Harry could sense that Draco really didn’t want him to go. They might not have got on well at school, but they worked well together. He avoided the awkward conversation, though, attempting to save Draco the embarrassment of admitting he would miss Harry. 

A few minutes of paperwork and he was no longer an Auror. It was an odd feeling, walking out of the office, knowing that he no longer worked for the Ministry. He was beginning to get excited about the prospect of a new job, but there was still the needling feeling that he was leaving his dream job. He went home to find Severus cooking him dinner, and was soon distracted from such thoughts.

*

“Those trousers are too tight,” Severus stated, staring at Harry over his morning cup of coffee. 

Harry looked down at himself, confused. He had picked the jeans specifically because they were the loosest he owned. It only took another glance at Severus’s face to understand his meaning. “Honestly, he’s my boss now! You need to relax.” He leaned over the kitchen table and pecked him lightly on the lips. Severus made a noncommittal noise and took another sip of his coffee. Harry smiled to himself and went to fix his morning toast. He didn’t get very far before he found himself in Severus’s lap, and his mouth caught up in a possessive kiss. 

“Just remember to whom you belong. I do not share well.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Can I make my toast now or do you have some more jealousy you need to exorcise?”

“Your toast may make itself.” A flick of Severus’s wrist and the bread box began to open and a knife was cutting two thick slices off the loaf inside. Harry watched for all of a second before he was distracted by another kiss, tasting of black coffee and cooked eggs. He gave in, recognizing a struggle that wasn’t worth fighting, and settled in to be thoroughly snogged. By the time his breakfast was finished, he was contemplating staying home from work, but Severus gently nudged him off his lap and onto an adjacent chair. A steaming cup of coffee appeared next, accompanied by a command to eat. 

Soon they were on their respective ways, separating with another quick kiss. Harry Apparated directly into the hub and nearly on top of Jack. 

“Morning, lovely. No time for a slow ease-in, I’m afraid. We’ve had a report of a small aircraft over Swansea, and I need you and Gwen to go and check it out.” His eyes moved to Gwen, walking up with two coffees in hand. “If it’s more of those Trilodors, be careful. They may be tiny, but they can be vicious. Take the stun gun.” Gwen nodded, handing Harry one of the paper cups and smiling at him.

“Good morning. Welcome to Torchwood. Let’s go.” She grabbed his elbow with her free hand and started dragging him towards the door. He blinked, taking a minute to process what was happening. He just managed to wave good morning to Jack and Jones before the vault door was shutting and he and Gwen were off. 

Welcome to Torchwood, indeed.


End file.
